Behind Closed Doors
by altera vita mea
Summary: World Academy is one of the most exclusive high schools in the world and very few are chosen to attend. Unfortunately, even the best schools have rumors floating around, poisoning the thoughts of all who hear them. But only those who have friends actually hear these rumors... FrUk, Spamano, PruCan
1. Prologue

_Behind Closed Doors_

 _Prologue_

If you are the average student coming to World Academy- meaning you might have come from a country most Americans have never heard of such as Seychelles or Belarus- and if you are the kind of teenager who can make friends, you would be warned. I don't necessarily mean you must be instant BFFs with the first person you see as you walk in, it might take you a few days, at the most a week or so, to make friends. But even then, you would been safe.

Those friends would immediately tell you of the biggest danger in the school. At the word 'danger' your eyes might widen as you stare at your new friends. "But I thought this was an expensive private academy and its a big deal to enroll here. Would they let dangerous people on campus?" Your friends chuckle and admit that these persons are not exactly physically dangerous, generally speaking, and perhaps that was the worst of it.

"Do you see those three mouthwatering hot guys over there?" They ask, pointing in any given direction(preferably one in the center of attention).

You shyly follow their gaze until you see exactly who they are talking about. Well, they really don't look dangerous. The worst of their crimes seem to be that they are loud and something about them screams 'idiots.' "Okay, what's so bad about them?"

"Bad is in their names!" Your friends exclaim. "The Bad Touch Trio."

"Why would anyone call themselves that?"

"Well...it's more of a name we gave them: because they're all perverts and are probably rapists or something so of they touch you at all, chances are it will be in a place you'd rather be left alone."

Now, assuming you are an average person with decent morals, you are immediately turned off: for no matter how freaking sexy they are, perverts and rapists are not the types of guys you wanted to interact with in your lifetime, ever. If you are more rebellious than logical you need more convincing, and this is when your friends would ever so kindly break it down for you.

"Look, if you don't mind quick hook ups or one night stands you're fine," is what they would readily tell you. "But all three of them have serious commitment issues. The world of dating is one giant game to them, and after they get bored with one they move on. Everyone who gets involved with one of them claims they'll be the one to fix him, but they end up like all the others before. Even those who say they will simply play along get their hearts broken.

"If you simply cannot help yourself, you could try Antonio: he's nice at least. I think he'd actually be decent if it wasn't for his friends and the fact that he's not so bright, you know? But he's still one of them, so he's capable of more than he looks like.

"Then there's Gilbert. He's albino, but he can pull it off, and he easily has the biggest ego in the entire school. He's always calling himself awesome and he doesn't understand when no means no. So if he's got an eye for you he's not going to leave you alone. Personally, I think arguing with him turns him on.

"Francis is the worst of them; he's smooth and classy and charming, but he's like an undercover snake. He's managed to sleep with almost everyone here, some people even say he's been with his two best friends. It's sickening really, but if any of them walk up and smile at you, it's nearly impossible to escape after that. It would be better to just avoid them."

At that you nod passionately, yet a small part of your being secretly wants a chance with at least one of them. You take one last look at the trio: you can see Gilbert's muscles through the sleeves of his sweater, you notice Antonio has nothing less than a perfect ass, and Francis is just so slender and gorgeous.

 _They are like angels,_ you reason. _Fallen angels._

You shake thoughts of them out of your mind and turn back to your friends to discuss extra curricular activities.

Now, what happens if you are not the average student arriving at World Academy for the first time? What if you aren't the type to make friends? What if you are the kind of kid who gets overlooked every class period, and when the teacher takes attendance, the other students look around and ask, "we have someone with that name here?" You are the one who almost always barely makes it out of the halls without getting trampled.

What if you are the type who is blunt and sarcastic and therefore doesn't make a lot of friends? You are the one who hides in the dark recesses of the smallest club room, practicing magic or buried in the library with your nose in a mystery novel.

And what if you are the student who hates people with a burning passion, who curses and swears at nearly everyone you see, who eats lunch alone and has a permanent scowl on your face?

You have no one to warn you of the dangers that lie ahead. Woe to those poor, unknowing souls. Woe to they who do not even know that they are being watched by three hungry predators who lie in wait for the right move. Their eyes sparkle with charm and mischief, their tongues are smooth and they know what to say. It distracts little lambs from the sharp claws of seduction. What will become of them?

Now I will introduce you to our lambs(though two of them would be infuriated at the comparison): Matthew Williams, Arthur Kirkland, and Lovino Vargas.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I promised to get on to this like...almost a month ago, and I am finally getting around to it! So, this is my new story everyone- hopefully everything goes as smoothly as possible, and hopefully all my readers enjoy it! That's what this is about after all. I'm sorry if I sound like I'm rambling, I always get so nervous before I publish the first chapter...**_

 _ **Anyway, if you think the idea is good thus far, let me know! Even if you think it's...not-so-good... let me know too. Yeah...**_

 _ **altera vita mea**_


	2. Chapter 1

_Chapter one_

If anyone waiting in line for their room key cared to hear a long rant in mixed Italian and a couple handfuls of curses, they would have gotten it from Lovino Vargas, who was always in the mood to deliver speeches of that nature. Fortunately for the students of World Academy, no one felt the urge to talk to the new guy scowling at anything and everything, with dark eyebrows resting right above his flashing hazel eyes at an angry angle while his lips moved almost soundlessly, whispering profanities in a different language.

"What the actual fuck is wrong with this place?" He asked himself, crossing his arms tighter in front of his chest. "Seriously, who the fuck gives an exclusive private school a shitty name like World Academy? I mean, that's pretty damn original, isn't it? Idiotic bastards these people are. And Dio! What is the point in having such a fucking large campus? Do they want us to get lost in this hellhole? And then there's my idiot of a brother. Stupid Feliciano. What kind of fucker forces people to attend pathetic academies against their will? Odio quel piccolo bastardo."

Feliciano had always been the better brother, and this was a fact Lovino recognized with extreme spite. It was a fact the entire world noticed and loved to point out without stopping to consider the feelings of the elder Vargas brother. Feliciano had received all the most desirable genes from their grandfather; the bright amber eyes, fair skin, the bubbly personality, he was smart when he actually took the time to sit down and pay attention, he inherited the signature Vargas talent when it came to to the arts, he was graceful, he was cute, he was sweet.

Lovino on the other hand... Nice people would stop talking at that point. Others would toss their hands into the air in exasperation and complain about how obnoxiously rude and unlikable he was, asking why he couldn't be just a little more like Feliciano. Everyone flamboyantly played favorites, even the boys only surviving relative- their grandfather.

Lovino tried hard not to let anyone know just how much it hurt, he had built a stone wall around his heart and carefully guarded it with a heated temper and a mouthful of insults. Every once in awhile, however; the fiery pang of those comparisons got to him. It would have been so much better if he had only stayed in Italy: the few friends he had would rarely see his stupid fratello who was now a freshman, and none of the bastards at this new school would know that Feliciano fucking Vargas had a useless disappointment for an older brother.

But that obviously wasn't how Lovino's shitty life worked. When the representative from World Academy arrived at their house to hand deliver Feli's acceptance letter, the little prick had decided that right then was the perfect time to act as though the two were inseparable. "Ve~? You mean I'll be attending this school alone, without anyone I know?" He had asked nervously.

"Yes dearie, but our program is set up so that you will quickly make new friends- friends that will last you a lifetime. We even have online chatrooms so you can meet other students before you even arrive!"

"A-and my family stays here? My brother can't enroll with me?"

"Not typically. We try to keep our attendance limited to those we really want."

Those we really want… as if Lovino hadn't already known that he was merely extra weight, another mouth to feed, a waste of effort. He had silently sworn at the American woman, balling his fists in his lap.

Feliciano had shaken his head and sent her a polite smile. "Well… grazie signora for coming all this way, but I'm not going to any foreign school without my fratello. It really is too bad that you don't have room for him, but I'm sure you can find someone else to replace me."

The woman had been at a loss. Clearly she hadn't been used to being turned down in such a careless manner. "Oh...well I'm sure we could make an exception," she had said quickly, sending Lovino a look of distaste. "We really do want you at our academy Feliciano, and if you want your brother to tag along then that is absolutely fine!"

Lovino hadn't even wanted to go in the first place. If there was one thing he hated more than those constant comparisons, it was being used to get closer to his stupid baby brother, who was always too oblivious to notice when he was being taken advantage of. Apparently the suckers at World Academy had been so desperate to get a perfect little angel like Feli into their establishment that they were even willing to put up with Lovino. And that fact disgusted him to his very core.

Unfortunately, no one had cared enough to notice his displeasure. Feliciano had been far too busy prancing around the house, throwing up rainbows, and meeting half the school on that ridiculous chatroom to pay attention, and Nonno had merely given his elder grandson a stern look. "Lovino, your brother has just been given the opportunity of a lifetime, and he was considerate enough to share it with you. Now stop complaining and pack your bags!"

He had begrudgingly obeyed, wondering if the other two members of his family were trying to get rid of him: Feli was getting him out of Nonno's hair, and would probably ditch him the second they arrived at their new school.

He hadn't been wrong, not exactly.

"Lovino, can you please hold my space in line?" Feliciano had asked ten minutes previously, bouncing around in excitement. "I have to use the restroom!"

At first, Lovino had thought the younger was lying, but then he had started crossing his legs and scrunching up his face in discomfort. "Fine," he had muttered, watching as the younger bolted out of sight.

 _I wonder if he got himself lost already,_ he thought now. _I bet the idiota couldn't get himself out of the damn bathroom and started crying. He probably called Nonno, who rushed out of the administration office and is now frantically searching the entire campus. And then once he finds my brother he'll start blaming me for letting him out of my sight._

Lovino rolled his eyes in annoyance and took another half-step toward the slowly moving line. "What the fuck is taking so long?" He demanded, tapping his foot impatiently. "At this point we'll be here until school starts next year." He huffed and peaked around the guy in front of him, training his eyes to the front of the line: some five people down.

The person handing out keys was a chatty girl who seemed to be spending more time talking than looking up dorm rooms. _Ah, that explains it,_ Lovino thought as he carefully inspected the girl. She was young enough to be a student, a junior maybe, and a pretty one at that, with waves of golden hair and a cute smile. It was true that humans in general annoyed the shit out of him, but he had always had a soft spot for beautiful woman. If he played his Italian looks right, he'd have his room key in a minute.

He sent frequent glances her way until the girl glanced up and made eye contact with him. Lovino flashed her a charming smile and looked away, watching from the corner of his eye as she giggled and smiled in his direction, shoving a key into the face of the student at her table.

"Hullo!" She greeted cheerfully when it was finally his turn. Damn, she was even cuter closer up, her blonde hair was adorned with a red, black, and yellow hair ribbon, her large green eyes blinked up at him from behind thick lashes, she had an adorable button nose and her lips were full and smiling.

Lovino's own lips curved upwards. "Ciao signorina."

The girl gasped. "Oh, you must be one of the new Italian students, right?" She asked. "I know I haven't seen you around."

"Sí, I am. Are all the women in Belgium as beautiful as you?"

"How did you know I'm Belgian?" She asked, a cute blush dusting her face.

Lovino gestured to her hair ribbon. "Those you the colors of your flag."

"You noticed! That makes me so happy, you would not believe how many people asked if I was German. I mean, do I even sound German?"

"Not at all," Lovino shook his head honestly. "Your accent it much more attractive."

"Aw! Thanks!" She said, giggling into her sleeve. "I'm Emma, by the way. And you are..?"

"Lovino Vargas."

"Lovino...such a lovely sounding name..." Emma murmured as she typed a few things into her laptop. "Okay, you're here with your brother, Feliciano right? Are you two rooming together or separately?"

He was taken aback by the question. They had never really discussed the dorm situation, and Lovino had just assumed. "Togeth-"

"FRATELLO!"

Feli suddenly materialized out of nowhere, crashing his small body into his brother's with so much force he almost fell over. Which would not have impressed Emma. "Hey! Watch it!" He hissed, steadying himself and sending a sheepish smile in the girl's direction.

She was already giggling again. "This must be him! You two are so cute!"

"Feli, this is Emma…"

"Ciao!" The younger greeted, pressing a gentle kiss to her hand and ignorant to his fuming brother behind him. "Didn't I tell you there'd be pretty girls here?"

"Feliciano…." Lovino shot him a dark look, silently telling him to shut the fuck up. Feli gulped nervously and stepped back. "Sorry...Did we get assigned to a room yet?"

Emma shook her head. "We were just getting to that. I think Lovino was saying you two are sharing a room, right?"

Lovino was about to agree, but his stupid brother spoke up. "Actually, I think we've found other arrangements."

"What?" The older Italian frowned, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "Since when? With who? Why didn't you tell me anything?"

Feliciano turned to him and smiled at someone over his shoulder. "Since five minutes ago," he chirped. "With Ludwig."

 _Who the hell is Ludwig?_ Lovino thought, slowly turning around to see a fucking giant potato staring back at them, huge arms crossed over an even bigger chest. "Hello," he said simply, in the ugliest German accent known to mankind.

"Feliciano, let the person behind us go next," Lovino muttered, delivering his best death glare at the newcomer, who didn't even flinch. What? Did he actually think that being tall and buff would save his sorry ass- the ass he probably received from completing fifty squats a day as a part of his shitty warm up? "Who the fuck are you?" He hissed, planting his hands on his hips- hips that were probably around the size of the German's thigh muscles. _Damn this fast metabolism._

The blonde glanced down at him awkwardly. "I'm Ludwig."

"Very funny, bastard! How do you know my brother and what possessed you to think you'd get him in your room?"

That was when Feliciano intervened, stepping in between them before Lovino could start getting physical. "Fratello calm down please! This is Ludwig Beilschmidt. I met him online before we got here, but Nonno knows his family. He thinks it would work out better if we were split up, he said we'd fight less. Plus, Ludwig is really smart and he agreed to help me with German homework. Wouldn't that be nice?"

Lovino glanced toward his brother, his lips twitching in annoyance. Seriously, he'd rather room with some weird potato-sucking bastard than with his own brother? His flesh and blood?

"Pleeeeeease Lovino?" Feli blinked up at him with large puppy eyes, knowing full and well that it was the other's ultimate weakness.

"Ugh...whatever. I don't care."

Of course he cared, but if his brother would be more happy living with a total stranger, then whatever. Who could blame the kid for not wanting to spend more time than he had to with his ever cranky brother? And even if he didn't like this Ludwig character, he wanted Feli to be happy.

"Yay! Grazie!" The little prick said, wrapping his arms around his waist in a hug before he skipped off to get a key from Emma. Lovino gave the German one last glare. "Hurt my brother and I will fucking kill you."

Ludwig nodded slowly, giving him a long awkward look as he ran his large hand over his perfectly gelled hair. "Uh… nice meeting you Lovino…"

"Please," Lovino scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Don't act like you enjoyed my presence. I already let you know that I absolutely hate you."

Feliciano was humming cheerfully as he skipped back to his new friend's side. "Call me after you settle in, fratello. Maybe we can all get dinner later before Nonno goes back home?"

"Maybe." _No. No fucking way._

After the two of them left(Feli chatting about pasta and other useless shit), Lovino slowly turned back to Emma, who already had a room key picked out for him and a soft smile on her face. "Black Sea Hall, floor two, room twenty-four. I hooked you up with another sophomore named Matthew Williams," she said as she gently dropped the key into his hand.

"Thanks."

She blinked at him, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "I'm sorry things didn't work out with your brother. You two seem close."

Lovino shrugged, trying hard to look less dejected than he felt. "Not really. We fight more than anything, so it doesn't really matter."

Emma bit her bottom lip and reached for a map of the too large campus, scrawling something into the corner and circling a building toward the center. "You're in a good location, see? You're close to the cafeteria," she pointed to the spot she had circled and pushed the paper toward him.

"Thanks. I hope I'll see you around."

Emma smiled. "Don't worry: you will."

Lovino shuffled away from the line and glanced down at the map, trying to figure out where Nonno should park the rental car stuffed with his and his brother's shit.

"Che?"

He stopped so short some random person almost bumped into his back, muttering apologies as they sped away. There, on the bottom right corner of the map, was a small note written in Emma's purple pen's ink, a note with a number attached to it.

 _Call me~! Ps. Don't be so sad Lovino. You have such a cute smile._

 _~Emma Maes  
_

* * *

Matthew Williams jumped when his door was suddenly kicked open, and he nearly tumbled backwards over the side of the bed. If it hadn't been for a last second grab for the mattress he would have been a dead man. Heart pounding against his chest, he slowly pulled himself back into an upright position, staring as the person stumbled inside.

He seemed to have a smaller build, but Matthew couldn't tell much; he was carrying so many boxes all he could see were long legs and an interesting curl somewhat like his own sticking out over the top of the stack. He was muttering something to himself in a language that wasn't English or French...it sounded distinctly Italian.

Matthew honestly hadn't thought he would even get a roommate. Of course, he had been told he would share with someone, but he had shrugged it off, sure that the administration would totally forget that Room 24 of Black Sea Hall even existed. He had thought he'd be stuck alone in a boring, empty, quiet room all year long.

 _No, it definitely won't be quiet,_ Matthew thought with an amused smile on his face, watching as his new roommate suddenly stubbed his toe on a desk and let out a loud curse- in English this time. "Fucking dammit!"

The Canadian slowly stood up and crept over to the other, grabbing the top boxes away. "Hello. Can you see better now?"

An almost inhuman screech came from the shorter, causing him to drop the bottom box on his foot. "Ow! What the fuck is wrong with you?" He demanded, dumping the rest of his stuff on his bed so he could nurse his injured foot, grumbling curses under his breath. "Stupid Feli. Clothes aren't heavy, my ass."

Matthew blinked and set down the boxes. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Yeah yeah. Whatever," was the cold response he received.

Before another word could be exchanged between the two there came a loud thud from the other side of the door, followed by an equally loud voice. "Hellooo? Lovino, is this your room? I have the rest of your stuff."

Matthew's roommate- who he assumed must be Lovino- groaned and flopped onto his back lazily. "Open the door, would you?" He asked. "It's my Nonno."

Matthew had no idea what a Nonno was, but he shrugged the detail off and walked over to the door, twisting the knob open. He immediately had to jump backwards to avoid getting trampled by a man carrying even more boxes.

"Lovino my boy, where am I supposed to put these? Dio, they're heavy!" Without waiting for an answer the man simply sat them down on Matthew's desk, brushing back thick brown hair from his forehead. "I thought you told me you had a roommate."

Lovino sat up and frowned. "Who the hell do you think opened the door for you? He's literally standing right there and you jumped all my shit on his stuff."

Lovino's Nonno slowly turned back towards Matthew, gasping loudly. "Oh! I'm sorry! Didn't even see you there! What's your name?"

"M-Matthew Williams," he stuttered, not used to being asked questions, especially not so directly.

"Nice to meet you Max. The name's Romulus Vargas!" The man shook his hand with a grip so tight Matthew thought his fingers were about to break, noticing how quickly he had forgotten his name.

 _New record,_ he thought.

Lovino apparently caught the mistake as well, for he shot his Nonno a glare. "Seriously?! He just said his name is Matthew. Are you deaf or something?"

"Errore mio! Sorry about that. And good luck rooming with my grandson. Too bad really, you seem to be a nice kid." Romulus- Lovino's grandfather- waved his hand dramatically, as if the person he was talking about wasn't sitting five feet away.

Matthew rubbed the back of his head nervously. "You're his grandfather?" He had guessed father, or maybe his youngest uncle or something. The man didn't look a day over forty- in fact, he looked to be in his late thirties. Lovino also had a bit of a youngish look thanks to his tiny build and pouting lips. Maybe the absence of aging ran in their family or something.

"Haha, that's right! It doesn't seem that way, no? We don't look very much alike..."

"Nonno!" Lovino suddenly stood up, pushing his grandfather towards the door. "I think Feli needs your help. Bye." Before he slammed the door in his face, Romulus waved to Matthew with a, "it was nice meeting you Marcos!"

"I fucking hate him," Lovino muttered, roughly grabbing the boxes from Matthew's desk so he could throw them onto the bed. "My family is a bunch of overbearing assholes, but they won't be around often."

The blonde shrugged, sitting back down on the squeaky mattress of his own bed. "I don't think he was that bad..." He offered quietly.

The Italian rolled his eyes. "He fucked up your name," he pointed out. "Twice."

"He's not the first one. It happens a lot."

"Huh. That's weird. Matthew isn't even hard to remember. It's a popular name- much more common than Lovino."

Matthew shrugged. "People don't really take the time to remember me, I guess," he whispered, wrapping his arms around his legs.

Lovino was staring at him with a look that most likely meant "what the fuck does that mean?" Instead of saying that, however; he leaned back on his elbows and stared up at the dirty ceiling- some idiot who had lived there in previous years had somehow managed to get dusty shoe prints all over it.

"Well, Nonno was right. I'm a pain in the ass to live with. So here's what we'll do; I'll give you a list of shit I pull, and you give me yours. Then we know what the fuck to look out for."

Matthew smiled slightly. "That sounds like Holmes and Watson before they moved in together," he noted.

"I guess," Lovino muttered, curiously drawing his hazel eyes to Matthew for a brief second. The Italian's gaze was then back on the ceiling. "Shit: In case you haven't noticed, I swear a lot. Constantly. It's a habit that I sure as hell am unwilling to give up because I'm fucking good at cussing people out. On top of that I'm rude, and so loud I annoy myself, I fucking hate people- they're all assholes and I can't stand them. I complain all the time, I'm lazy, I'm untalented, pathetic, whatever. My mother used to say I'm appassionato, passionate, but I think overbearing and crude are better words."

His voice trailed off hesitantly, he sighed, kicked up his legs and sat back up. "I'll probably think of more later," he said. "Your turn."

Matthew wasn't exactly sure what to say; he wasn't around people enough to know what they really thought about him- scratch that, he knew. People didn't think about him long enough to make an opinion. "I'm insignificant," he said softly. "A nobody. A shadow with no lasting impression. You'll probably forget I'm here half the time. You'll probably step on me or bump into me simply because you don't see me. It's fine, I'm used to it. And don't worry about being loud, I like loud people. They know how to let people know they're there."

Lovino scoffed. "You like loud people? No one likes loud people. They're fucking obnoxious."

"People listen to them."

"They don't have a choice."

"That's better than never being heard at all."

The Italian stared at him long and hard, furrowing his dark eyebrows in thought. It was somewhat intimidating, Matthew realized. Lovino was way smaller than the average sophomore, but there was something about the way he carried himself, the power behind his glare, that made him seem so much bigger.

Finally, as if he had given up on trying to understand, he shrugged and flopped onto his back again. "Whatever you say. Now I'm going to sleep. I'm suffering from one hell of a jet lag."

Much to Matthew's surprise, the other was fast asleep in less than five minutes, regardless of the multiple boxes littering the bed around him.

The Canadian shook his head in bemusement and stood up to finish unpacking his own belongings. _Well, I got a roommate,_ he thought to himself. _And an interesting one at that._

Even so, he didn't consider interesting as a bad thing. Being quiet is a gift in its own way, his father had once told him. When you're not so consumed in hearing your own voice you see much and you hear all. Being observant isn't something everyone can do. See much and hear all, Matthew was good at that. He realized he could also observe people's characters and personalities with ease. He liked loud people: his brother Alfred was by far the loudest person he had ever met. Loud people could be a bit much at times, but they said what they wanted to say, which was something Matthew couldn't do. Lovino was rough around the edges, he cursed like a sailor, but he didn't seem to be a bad person.

 _I wonder if we'll end up getting along,_ Matthew wondered as he hung up some clothes. _I hope we do, I think it would be hard to live with someone you hate.  
_

* * *

Arthur Kirkland wasn't sure what he was to think about his roommate, for he still hadn't even met him. Thanks to the academy's lame chatroom, he had at least gotten in contact with the person he was to live with for a year, but it really hadn't been much help. All he had learned was that Antonio Fernández Carriedo had way too many names for humanity, and had some kind of unnatural obsession for tomatoes.

Arthur honestly didn't give a damn about the ten thousand varieties of the fruit; what he wanted to know was whether or not this Antonio character had a criminal record, if he was a secret psycho, if he'd be safe sleeping five feet away from the guy. Unfortunately, he never received that reassurance, which both stressed him out and annoyed him to no end.

Not even the girl who had given him his key had been much help. "Oh! You're rooming with Toni!" She had said, recognition lighting her green eyes. She had looked like she could pass as a Kirkland if only she had the eyebrows for it.

Arthur had sighed in relief. "You know him then? That's good, for I have no idea what I'm getting into."

"Ja, you'll be fine. He's-"

"An idiot," a deep voice had interrupted as a man with gravity-defying hair seemed to appear out of thin air. Arthur had had to crane his neck slightly to look at his face, but the girl hadn't seem intimidated in the slightest, in fact she had pouted and smacked his arm playfully. "Don't be so mean, Abel! Antonio is a really nice guy."

"Mmm, too nice. I don't trust him, and you know the people he hangs out with. Niet goed."

At that, the girl's normally teasing eyes had hardened. "Stop it," she'd warned. "You'll freak him out just because you have a grudge."

Then, turning back to the Brit, she had smiled again. "Don't worry about my brother, he doesn't think highly of a lot of people. I've known Antonio for three years, and like I said, he's super nice."

Even so, the way Abel had muttered something into his scarf had Arthur worry even more.

Now, here he was, outside his dorm room with his suitcases in hand, trying to keep himself from shaking as he pulled his key out of his pocket. _Alright,_ he reasoned with himself. _I doubt the school would allow any mercenaries to enroll here, every single person is hand-picked by the administration. But that doesn't mean he won't be a crackhead with a tattoo on his arse!_

Willing himself to breathe, he shoved the key into the lock and turned, pushing the door open with his hip as he dragged his belongings inside. "Hello?" He called out. "Is anyone in here?"

No one answered, and the room appeared empty. Arthur cautiously peeked his head around the corner and inside the closet just in case there was an insane axe-murderer waiting for him, but after he scanned the entire room he realized that he was completely alone. And that set him off just a little bit. Antonio was a third-year student, shouldn't he remember how unnerving it was to meet a roommate for the first time, shouldn't he have made an effort to make him feel a little more comfortable?

But no, the only thing the idiot had done for him was leave a quickly scribbled note on Arthur's empty bed:

 _Hola amigo! I am so sorry I wasn't here when you came in, but I'm going into town with some friends of mine. I'll be back….sometime later, and then we can meet each other!_

 _-Antonio_

"Hmph. How irresponsible," Arthur muttered irritably. "What the bloody hell does 'later' mean anyway?" The unspecific time seemed to indicate that his flighty roommate would be out for a long time.

Sighing, the Brit crumbled up the paper and tossed it, squinting at the window in disagreement. Antonio had claimed the bed by the window, and apparently felt the urge to open the blinds and let in as much light as possible. Arthur didn't like it: London was usually cloudy or foggy or raining, and he had come to accept it. Light was a discomfort, for it was blinding.

It was while he was closing the shades that he found yet another bothersome fact about the man he was to live with; the guitar case half poking out from underneath the bed. So he played? Not that Arthur had anything in particular against the instrument- although he had never been fond of it- but did he play well? How often would he take it out? Would it be a giant distraction? Would it keep Arthur from his studies? Would he have to seek out the library for the slightest hope of getting things done? He would have asked Antonio, but of course, he was nowhere to be found.

With nothing else he could do, Arthur decided to unpack his belongings. Clothes went neatly on his side of the closet, organized by style. Books were organized alphabetically on the desk. Toiletries were placed in the small bathroom, and Arthur was beyond thankful that the dorm room had its own. The last thing he wanted to do was wait in line whenever he needed to relieve himself, or huddle in the farthest shower, hoping some creep wouldn't yank open the curtain while he was naked.

Once he was finished, he pushed the empty suitcases under the bed and unwrapped a chocolate granola bar, cuddling up onto his newly made bed with a book in hand. He nibbled on his snack as he ran his fingers over the cover of _Jane Eyre_ fondly, he had always enjoyed that book.

Though, he would much rather go to sleep- a day of traveling and settling in was exhausting, and his eyes were already beginning to grow heavy. _No,_ he told himself stubbornly. _I am not going to sleep until I meet this Antonio. I need to make sure I won't get molested or raped if he comes in._

With that in mind, he opened the book to the first chapter. " _There was no possibility of taking a walk that day…."_

The sudden sound of keys jangling against the door caused him to wake up with a jolt, silently cursing the stiffness of his neck, and for giving in to sleep. He could hear muffled laughter outside as he rubbed at his eyes and glared at his clock, which blinked 12:30 am back at him.

 _He's been out that long?_ He thought angrily. _Stupid, just because he's been to this bloody school before he thinks he owns the place? He thinks he can gallivant throughout the entire world and come back whenever he pleases?_

The door finally opened, and not just one, but three guys stumbled in, one of them deciding to flop down on the first bed in sight- and on top of Arthur's leg as well. "Ow! Get off me, you bloody Wanker!" he shouted, vainly attempting to shove the heavier body off of him.

Instead of moving away and apologizing, the person lifted his slightly messy blond head and blinked at him, a creepy grin forming on his face. "Oh, you've got a cute roomie!" He slurred. "Très mignon. I am sorry for sitting on you without warning, mon cher. We can make this more comfortable if you wish."

Arthur's face flushed at the insinuation, and he kicked blindly with the foot that was not being squished. "Hell no, you-you pervert!"

The other two were giggling stupidly, making no effort to even help the poor Brit. Great, he was alone in his room with three drunken, illegal imbeciles, wasn't that a lovely way to go.

"He's feisty too!" The guy with...was it natural to have hair that white… made some weird laugh that literally terrified him. It seemed to sound like, "Kesesese!" Antonio- assuming the third guy was in fact his roommate from hell- did absolutely nothing to help his dilemma.

 _That is it,_ Arthur decided. _I draw the line here._

"I said sod off!" He demanded, kicking the stupid Frenchman in the ribs, which caused him to fall heavily onto the floor. Scrambling out of bed before he could be jumped on again, the furious Brit stomped toward the other two and sized them up- discovering much to his dismay that he was shorter than both of them.

"Do you mind telling me what the hell is going on?" He asked, jabbing a finger at Antonio's chest in accusation. "It's past bloody midnight and I get the honor of meeting my roommate with his drunken, perverted friends. How stupid are you?"

Antonio's smile faltered slightly as he blinked in confusion. "Oh, lo siento... I didn't realize-"

"Well that much is obvious!" Arthur sputtered. "I'm putting an end to this right now. From now on you will be in this room at a reasonable hour, or just don't come back at all. I don't want you out for god knows how long."

The weird albino guy rolled his eyes in apparent annoyance as he grumbled a, "Yes Dad," under his breath.

 _And they think I'm done..._ Arthur spun around and shot a glare at the blonde- who had finally picked himself off the floor. "And another thing. I don't want your stupid friends here. Ever. They're creepy and weird and I doubt my safety when they're around."

"Wait a minute, mi amigo." Antonio's words were friendly enough, but they were laced with a sharp edge as he stepped in front of the Brit. His arms were crossed, and the low light reflected darkly in his eyes. Green clashed against green- and Arthur was too damn stubborn to back down. "I live here too. Who gave you the authority to order me around?"

Before Arthur could reply, the Frenchman interrupted softly. "Antonio, it's fine. He's tired, you're a bit drunk. We can talk this out in the morning when everyone's heads are clearer."

The albino in the corner didn't want things to go that smoothly. "No way Francis. This unawesome brat needs to be fucking knocked down a few notches. If Toni wants to punch the shit out of him, I'm all for it. In fact, I'll probably help."

Arthur knew he should quit while he still could, while the stupidly helpful(not that he was about to admit that) Francis still had a bit of say in his friends' actions, but then again, why were they getting mad at him? He was the one who had been treated poorly the whole day, he hadn't even been able to greet his roommate civilly. How was that his fault?

Squaring his shoulders, he looked defiantly into Antonio's eyes and finally answered. "Well, I suppose you yourself gave me the authority when you decided to act like a bloody child. As a human being I have been so disrespected today, and it gives me every right to kick out your friends. I'm wondering if I should kick your sorry arse out as well!"

"That's not a bad idea actually!" Francis suddenly popped up between the two. That was most likely a good thing, for the Spaniard now seemed to have a dangerously dark aura surrounding him, which was terrifying considering the man had been laughing no more than three minutes previously. "I think we'll just keep Antoine in our room tonight. Gilbert!"

The albino growled softly and pushed himself away from the wall as he grabbed Antonio by the arm and led him towards the door, muttering to him in a raspy undertone. Arthur was certain they were planning how to murder him in the middle of the night.

"He should be better by morning," Francis was saying, smiling sheepishly. He had beautiful eyes, such a melancholy blue… Oh, gag him now, he was not sitting there ogling over the one who had just tried to get into his pants!

"Je suis désolé, I know he gets moody when he drinks. I should have kept a better eye on him but I got…distracted. He'll be back to his cheerful, oblivious self soon, I promise."

"Uh- huh…."

Arthur wasn't as convinced as the Frenchman seemed to be, in fact, if he didn't know any better, he would say his roommate absolutely hated him. The feeling was quite mutual, actually.

* * *

 _ **There you have it guys! It has truly begun, and thankfully it seems as though you all like it so far. That makes me happy! Thursdays are my magical update day, so expect chapter two in a week. Thanks everyone, you are awesome!**_

 _ **altera vita mea**_


	3. Chapter 2

_Chapter two_

 **New Message From Alfred:**

Yo Mattie! Evry1 who is any1 is goin 2 party in town 2nte

 **New Message From Alfred:**

kiku & i can pick u up

 **New Message From Alfred:**

we can get ur roomie 2

Matthew stared at the texts for well over a minute, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Alfred's texts were always so hard to understand, would his thumbs hurt that bad if he simply wrote a few extra letters so that his messages could be legible?

"Hey, Lovino?" The Italian glanced up from his sketchbook with a raised eyebrow. "I guess Alfred is inviting us to some party tonight. Do you want to go?"

Much to his relief, Lovino rolled his eyes and turned back to his work. "Feliciano mentioned it earlier. Tell him having a fucking party the night before school sucks balls. I don't do parties."

"Right." Matthew murmured as he glanced back at the phone.

 **Sent:**

No thanks, Lovino thinks it's stupid. We want to be ready for class tomorrow.

 **New Message From Alfred:**

u sure bro? We gonna get turnt! ;)

 **Sent:**

Ah, no. I'd rather not show up for first period looking like I escaped from 'The Purge' cast.

 **New Message From Alfred:**

lol whatevs ur loss

 **New Message From Alfred:**

cant say im a bad bro 4 askin

Matthew tossed the phone against the pillows and released a deep breath. Just the thought of having classes tomorrow and dealing with more new people made his stomach hurt. Alfred, being the social bundle of energy that he was, hadn't gone without offering to help his brother get out of his shell, he was constantly inviting him to play videogames with him and his Japanese roommate, to grab a bite to eat with a group of people, to go to a party. But Matthew politely declined every single time, priding himself with the creative excuses he came up with. He just...he wasn't ready, not yet.

Getting used to living with Lovino was stressful enough, even though it wasn't going as horrible as he had feared. They were no longer bumping into each other in attempt to grab their clothes out of the closet, and now that his roommate washed at night his habit of taking half hour showers never cut into his own supply of hot water. But everything still seemed beyond awkward, the two of them were the oddest, most reclusive duo on the earth, Matthew was sure of it. Lovino rarely left the room, but he left even less. Whenever a conversation arose, it was always by the Italian's doing- otherwise the room would be weirdly silent.

"It's fucking creepy," Lovino had insisted the night before, passionately waving around a forkful of pasta. "When you said you were quiet, I thought you were exaggerating. But you weren't kidding. I swear, sometimes I'm half a second away from walking out of the bathroom fucking naked. Would it really kill you to talk sometimes?"

Matthew was sure it wouldn't if he really tried, but he never really knew what to say. He had never been good at socializing, that had always been Alfred's forte…

The normal reserve of the room was broken by the sudden chime of a phone, which was so out of the blue it caused Lovino's hand to jerk the pencil across the paper. "Fuck!" The Italian readily tore the page out and crumbled it- something Matthew noticed he did to most of his work- and snatched his cell phone off of the desk in irritation.

His expression softened half a second later when he answered the phone. "Ciao Emma," he said smoothly, neatly tucking the phone under his chin as he stood up. Matthew knew he shouldn't be staring, it was so rude, but was his roommate actually smiling? It wasn't even that knowing little smirk he would sometimes see, no Lovino's entire being had changed. His eyes were brighter than normal, his stance was more at ease, and the way his smile danced on his lips made him look happy.

 _I wonder if I'm seeing things,_ he thought, removing his glasses so he could rub at his eyes. _Maybe the lack of fresh air is messing with my head. I knew I should have stayed in Canada! Why did I accept to attend this school?_

No, he couldn't be going crazy, for the image didn't change after he put his glasses back on. "Sí, I heard about the party," his roommate was saying. "Do you…? Oh, your brother doesn't want you to go? I don't blame him, trust me bella, those parties are stupid."

Not a single curse either? And was it just him or was that Italian accent even more pronounced than usual? Matthew shook his head in wonder and finally brought his eyes back to his phone, scrolling through it aimlessly. Never in a million years would he have guessed that Lovino was the kind to get in well with the ladies, but it seemed as though he had been very wrong.

"Bene, and we can grab some coffee afterwards, my treat. Alright, I'll see you in half an hour than. I can't wait."

The second he hung up the phone he was back to his normal self- as if someone had flicked an invisible switch. "Dammit," he grumbled, tossing the phone on the bed as he dashed for the closet. "I swear Feli took all the fucking good clothes- il piccolo marmocchio."

Matthew smiled a little and scooted to the edge of his bed, glancing at his roommate curiously. "That was new," he noted.

The Italian stuck his head out and glared at him for a brief moment. "Shut up. I'm nice when I want to be."

"I never said it was a bad thing- just unexpected."

"Duh, if I wasted my life being nice to every single little fucker who came around- like my brother- I would be taken as an naive dumbass and I would be taken advantage of. And who the hell wants that?" "

You make it sound as though being nice is a bad thing," the Canadian pointed out.

Lovino finally settled on an outfit and dragged it out, inspecting it carefully as he nodded to himself. "It's not. But I'm only nice to people who deserve it. There is such thing as being too nice."

After twenty minutes, he was on his way out the door, pausing momentarily to look back at Matthew. "Brief tour of the shitty school so I don't feel like an idiot tomorrow, and then we're going to a cafe nearby," he said. "Do you want anything?"

Matthew smiled and shook his head. "No thanks, I'm going to make pancakes in the kitchen."

"Sounds fucking amazing. Save me some."

Once Matthew's stomach started rumbling loud enough to drive the shy teenager out of his room, he grabbed the few ingredients he needed from the small fridge in between the desks and quietly made his way down the hall to the dorm's kitchen. He was beyond thankful for the terribly scheduled party, for it meant that the dormitory itself was more or less abandoned; there weren't any loud, overbearing rhythms of music pulsing through the doors, and there were no half-naked men running through the halls. Good thing for that, hopefully they had learned their lesson after Lovino shouted at them with every profanity known to mankind in about five different languages. "What the fuck makes you think I want to see your hairy ass hanging out of your damn boxers?!" Had been said in English. "Even a total slut wouldn't want that ugly shit!"

Matthew had only been at World Academy for three days, but both he and his roommate had fallen head over heels in love with the small kitchen at the end of the hall. It was mostly only used for the kids in Home Ec, because everyone else thought it too much work to make their own food and sought out the cafeteria instead. _What is the fun in that?_ Matthew wondered as he set his ingredients on the counter. _Half of the fun in food is creating it._

His skilled hands worked almost on their own, mixing the batter and setting the stove as he allowed his mind to wander with the lovely smell of pancakes in the making. It always reminded him of the comforts of home, of crisp air and snow on the ground, of collecting sap from the maple grove to use for homemade syrup, of those carefree hours he used to spend when he was younger with his favorite stuffed polar bear, Kumajirou(he still had that bear hidden in a box in the back corner of the closet, away from the prying eyes of Lovino). He could remember every other summer when Alfred came to visit, bouncing around with wide and excited eyes as he begged him to let him ride a moose.

"Alfred," he had tried to point out. "You can't ride moose-"

"Yeah you can! There's a famous picture of Teddy Roosevelt riding one!"

"I think it's fake…"

"Nu-uh! Watch Mattie! I'm gonna find a moose, and I'm gonna ride him all the way to New York City!"

"Wow! Those pancakes smell awesome!"

Hearing such a loud voice so close to one's ear was unnerving, especially when it was so out of the blue. Matthew jumped, jerking his plate full of fresh pancakes out of his hands. The only thing that kept the whole thing from crashing to the floor was the lightning fast reflexes of the stranger, who had the plate steadied almost immediately, his hand slightly brushing his own in the process.

"Kesesese! Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you- even though it was hilarious how high you jumped!" He said with a laugh, setting the plate down to the safety of the countertop.

Matthew took a deep breath, readjusting his glasses as he glanced up at the sudden newcomer. The first thing he noticed was that smirk playing on his face, the way his thin silvery-white eyebrows quirked over his bright red eyes. His entire being radiated confidence, from his stance to the way his light hair fell over his pale face. He seemed to be bragging without even saying anything- and the bold 'I DON'T GET DRUNK I GET AWESOME' printed on his black hoodie seemed to agree with the assumption.

"I uh...it's fine," Matthew found himself stuttering, turning abruptly back to the stove. "Nothing broke, so it's fine."

Mr. Confidant didn't leave, in fact he lazily hopped up on the counter next to the pancakes. "Ja, I can imagine how sucky that would have been. Good thing my awesome reflexes were there to save the day, right?"

 _I'm surprised he's still talking to me,_ Matthew thought. _He seems to be the kind of guy who hangs out with those crazy, fun-loving people, the kind who goes to illegal parties on the night before classes start._ "That's true. Thank-"

"There's no need for that," the stranger chuckled. "The Awesome Me thinks formalities are boring. But, if you do want to express your gratitude with some pancakes, it would be unawesomely rude of me to say no."

Matthew smiled slightly as he pushed the plate with three finished pancakes over to him, handing him the bottle of maple syrup to go with it. There was still enough batter to make some for himself, and if Lovino really wanted some later he could always whip up another batch.

Mr. Confident- or would Awesome be a better word- shot him a toothy grin and pulled a fork out of the drawer next to him. "Aw man, you're freaking awesome!"

"Thanks."

"Ja!"

Matthew poured the rest of the batter into the pan in the shape of three cakes, waiting for his new acquaintance to start talking again. He didn't have to wait very long. "I bet you're wondering why someone as awesome as me isn't at the party."

Matthew nodded silently as he flipped the cakes. He had been wondering that since the moment he had walked in, that and his actual name.

"Ugh, it's such a stupid story," the white-haired guy began in between chews. "My friend got stuck with this unawesome roommate who thinks he owns Toni or something! He's this sassy British guy who apparently has a problem with awesomeness; he gets pissy over the smallest things, he won't let Toni go out late, or drink, or let us in the room. I say fuck what he says, but Francis started being retarded too. He says we shouldn't cause more problems between the two of them and whatever. You only live once, so why should we waste it sitting on our asses and knitting scarves? Whatever Francis, he thinks his word is law or something, and it's either the three of us together or not at all. It sucks."

Matthew wasn't exactly sure how he was expected to respond to so much information, so he mostly sat there and munched on his golden fluffy pancakes, only pausing to nod or answer a question with the least amount of words possible. The other didn't mind, for whatever reason he seemed to have taken a liking to Matthew's quiet demeanor. "I don't think I introduced myself. I'm the one and only, Awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt! Technically I'm German, but I prefer to say I hail from Prussia. It sounds way more awesome, don't you think? What's your name anyway?"

"Matthew Williams."

"Awesome. Do you like birds?"

"I guess so."

"I love them- they're so awesome! I have the greatest little canary, but he's back home. My brother told me it would be a bad idea to try to sneak him on campus, but I'm thinking about bringing him here anyway after Christmas Vacation. Gilbird is the smartest creature I know: we won't get caught."

Hours later, Lovino gave his roommate the look: the look Matthew recognized as the one he made when his younger brother was on the phone and was saying something retarded. "So, some random bastard showed up, stole your food, and then gave you his entire fucking life story?" He asked, quirking a dark eyebrow at him.

Matthew shook his head. "Not really. I gave him food, and our conversation was actually pretty interesting."

"Yeah sure. Birds. Sounds fucking amazing- or should I say awesome?" Lovino scoffed.

"I thought you'd be happy that I actually talked to someone."

"I am, maybe it means you'll get your ass out of the room every once in awhile," the Italian rolled his eyes. "But what the hell did I tell you about being too nice? Just be careful."

* * *

Arthur was certain that if he and Antonio had been in each other's company any longer than they absolutely had to, a fierce fight would have broken out. The atmosphere was always tense between the two of them, vocal interactions were forced out through gritted teeth. The room was usually empty; Antonio was always off with those stupid friends of his, and Arthur spent his free time roaming the halls of the school with the freshmen, trying to memorize his schedule and find the locations of all his classes.

 _A lot of good that did,_ he muttered silently, glancing back down at the small piece of paper crumbled in his hand. Somehow, the building seemed to have changed with the presence of a couple hundred people, and he was completely disoriented. _This isn't even a lot of students and I can't even find the chemistry room._ Maybe it was the weirdness of hearing so many different languages buzzing around his ears that confused him. _Just speak bloody English! We're in America after all!_

Arthur huffed, sending a few strand of golden hair flying as he scanned the halls, almost missing a rather strange sight. Further down a loud group of girls bumped into some blonde kid, knocking all his papers onto the ground. The weirdest part was that no one reacted at all- it was almost as if they hadn't even seen him.

Arthur frowned and briskly walked over, grabbing a handful of the scattered papers before they could be trampled even more. "That was strange," he noted. "Are you alright?"

The other glanced up appreciatively, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Yes, thank you."

Arthur nodded as he handed over the papers. "How rude, they didn't even stop to help; it was like you were invisible."

"It happens more often than you'd think," he murmured, running his hand through his hair. "Do you happen to know where room 134 is?"

Arthur honestly had no idea- the number sounded familiar, but he no longer could tell where in the building it was. Yet at the same time, he felt uncomfortable with letting this stranger roam the halls alone: who knew if some other careless person would crash into him again? For whatever reason, he felt as though it was now his responsibility to make sure it didn't happen again. And Arthur knew he took responsibility too seriously.

"Um...134 you say? I think I know… Follow me, um… What's your name?"

"Matthew," he responded quietly, his voice nearly lost in the swelling noise around them.

The Brit smiled a little. "Nice to meet you. I'm Arthur Kirkland." He began walking in the direction he thought room 134 was located, checking behind him frequently to make sure the other was still following. _I can see why someone would fail to notice him,_ he thought. _He's so quiet!_

The halls were quickly emptying as students disappeared into their respective classrooms, and Arthur knew if he didn't find the right room within about two minutes, both of them would be left to the mercy of their teachers. Perhaps that knowledge was what made him desperate enough to blindly grab the arm of the person walking past him, trying to figure out why nearly everyone he saw was blonde. "Excuse me, I was wondering-" The words died on his tongue and he quickly recoiled his hand as the person blinked at him with sickeningly familiar blue eyes.

"Arthur? Fancy seeing you here. How may I be of assistance, mon cher?"

The Brit growled softly. He had always been one to hold grudges, and he was not about to let go of the awful events of his first night so easily. "Frog, where the hell is room 134?"

Francis smiled. "Well, you may find it if you would only walk the right way," he chuckled, motioning for them to follow him in the direction they had come from. He stopped to glance at Matthew in interest, smiling at the red maple leaf sweater he was sporting. "You're from Canada?" Matthew nodded slightly. "Parlez-vous français?" The Frog asked.

Arthur watched in shock as the other nodded again. "Oui."

"Très bon. Comment vous appelez-vous?"

"Matthew Williams."

"Such a nice name. I'm Francis Bonnefoy," the Frog said with a wink.

Arthur walked in between them and pushed the showy Frenchman out of the way, because there was no way he was going to allow someone as quiet and nice as Matthew to be harassed right in front of his face. "Make yourself useful and get us to the classroom before the bell rings!" He demanded. "And once you're done with that, you can ever so kindly show me where room 109 is."

Francis finally started walking, sending the Brit a look over his shoulder. "Of course. I am sure we'll have lots of fun in chemistry together!"

No, that did not sound like fun at all. Arthur honestly didn't want to see him again; once was far too much. "We are not in the same class, Wanker."

Francis chuckled and ran a hand over the retarded stubble at the base of his chin. "You have so little faith in me."

The Brit rolled his eyes and ordered the other to keep walking, grumbling choice words about him as he turned to the nearly silent boy behind him. "I wouldn't talk to him if I were you. The git is absolutely crazy."

Matthew smiled a little as he glanced at Francis. "I don't know. He doesn't seem that bad."

"Hardly! The creep tried to rape me!"

"Correction: I didn't even know you were in the bed," the Frenchman blabbed, not even turning around.

Arthur glared at the back of his head, eyes narrowing at the way his silky blond hair moved as he walked. _I bet the prat uses flower scented women's shampoo. He seems to be the type._

By some unfathomable miracle, the three of them managed to find room 134 just as the bell rang, and to that Matthew seemed grateful as he whispered "Thank you! Merci!"

The two Europeans however; were not so lucky. "Merde!" Francis cursed as he sped down the hall, leaving Arthur to jog after him and curse his shorter legs. "Our class is taught by Mr. Russey- although some of the more vulgar students call him something else- and I swear the man has something against me!"

"Why?" Arthur scoffed, panting slightly from the exercise. "Did you sleep with his daughter or something?"

Francis stopped so suddenly the Brit rammed into his back. "Why does everything go back to sex?" He asked suspiciously. "Don't get me wrong, l'amour is beautiful, but you accuse me of being a pervert."

Arthur flushed in anger. "Don't you dare turn it on me you stupid frog! You were the one who-"

The classroom door in front of them suddenly opened, and an irritated teacher stuck his head out, eyes narrowing at them. "Bonnefoy, I believe you are supposed to be in my class when the bell rings, not after. Don't tell me you're late because you were snogging a girl in the janitor's closet again."

"Ha!" Arthur smirked triumphantly. "See? I'm not the only one!"

Francis shot him a warning look as he shook his golden tresses. "That only happened one time, freshman year. Actually Mr. Russey, I was simply guiding new students to their rooms." His blue eyes sought out Arthur's, silently telling him to go along with the truth. But before the Brit could say anything, the teacher was looking at him as well.

"Aren't you the new English student?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes sir."

"Well, excuse me if I seem a bit harsh, but I take Bonnefoy's words with a grain of salt, I am well aware of his antics after dealing with him and his friends in detention every day last year. Was he helping other students?"

Arthur glanced at the Frenchman, who was staring at him intently, and curled his lip at him. _Perhaps if I act like a bigger jerk he will finally get the point and sod off._ He shrugged as he turned back the the science teacher. "I wouldn't know," he said. "I haven't seen anything of the sort."

Ignoring the indignant sounds of protest, Mr. Russey nodded. "So I thought. Bonnefoy, you're getting a detention- whatever you were doing it wasn't good. And this year, I'm not the one who'll be supervising your after-school get-together." He ducked back inside, allowing the two boys to follow him.

"What the hell?" Francis hissed harshly. "What was that for?"

"Relax Frog. You would have gotten there anyway."

"True, but not for something so trivial!"

Mr. Russey cleared his throat as he handed Francis his slip. "Gentlemen, you will have plenty of time to chat later. For now, take your seats," he said, pointing. Arthur glanced in the direction the finger was pointing and felt his stomach drop in disgust. Instead of desks, the room was set up with numerous tables scattered around the room, each seating two students who looked at the latecomers and snickered at their misfortune. There was only one table left.

Francis swore in French under his breath.

"Um, excuse me Mr. Russey," Arthur began, licking his lips nervously. "Is there any possibility of switching seats with someone else?"

"Sorry, beggars can't be choosers-" Mr. Russey glanced at his attendance sheet. "Mr. Kirkland."

Now it was Arthur's turn to swear silently. First Antonio, now Francis. This year is going to be absolute shit.

* * *

Lovino had always thought language was such an amazing thing. The more he knew, the more ways he could cuss out an annoying bastard after all. He had been considered one of the best English speakers in his class back in Italy, he knew Slovene, Sardinian- an Italian dialect that was basically a language of it's own, he had studied Latin, and although he refused to speak it, he could read and understand French perfectly. A fucking ugly language in his opinion.

What tripped him up the most was Spanish. It was annoying, a screwed up version of Italian, why were so many words so similar yet weirdly pronounced? Lovino could speak Spanish, barely, but he didn't want to settle for barely.

That was why he found himself dragging his feet into AP Spanish with a scowl, glaring at the students who took all the good seats. The only row that still had seats was the dreaded front row, where only a few nerdy looking losers sat barely socializing with the rest of the world. They seemed much too involved in sorting out their folders. Lovino rolled his eyes at them, cursing his inability to get up at a reasonable hour as he took the seat on the far end, next to the window. He dumped his belongings onto the desk with a loud flourish and slumped into the seat as he released a deep breath.

The fact that the teacher hadn't even started class yet ticked him off- it had meant he had dragged his ass out of bed far too early just so she could waste time talking to some guy at her desk. Lovino glared at the inconsiderate bastard, the fact that he could only see his backside did nothing to stop his foul-mouthed insults. _Look at the cocky little bastard,_ he silently sneered, curling his lip at the way the guy's hip casually rested on the teacher's desk. _You'd think he's hitting on her if it wasn't for the school uniform! Oh for fuck's sake, this shitty school has enormi problemi- he probably is hitting on her! Or he's here to beg for her good graces come grade time, because he would simply die if he got kicked off whatever stupid sport he's in._

"Who is that guy?" The girl sitting behind him hissed loudly to her friend. "He looks hot! And his ass is fine, look at how perfect it is!"

Lovino gritted his teeth and fought the urge to whip around and say "What the hell? If you could calm your fucking hormones for two seconds, that'd be great! I'm trying to keep my toast down." Unfortunately, he couldn't say that if he wanted to have a chance with the ladies, so he kept the retort to himself, comforting himself by continuing to narrow his eyes at the bastard in the front. Lovino's lips twisted into a pout as he thought of what the girl had said. Stupid, she hadn't even seen the man's face and she was already all over him. The Italian didn't have that kind of grace; he was too lithe, and his face was particularly young looking. To get a girl he always had to work for it. And the fact that this bastard could do what he could not without even turning around angered him. What did he even have going for him? Right...his ass... Lovino couldn't help but sneak a quick glance, begrudgingly agreeing with the girl behind him. Shit.

"¡Buenos Dias, clase!" The teacher finally stepped out from behind her desk as she chirped, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention.

The bastard next to her turned to face the class, and the Italian whispered a few curses as the girl behind him nearly started squealing. "He's even cuter from this angle!" She was hissing. _Yeah yeah we fucking get it,_ Lovino thought spitefully. _We get that he's fucking tall and tan and smiles and has nice eyes. Dammit!_

"I am Señora Rivera, and I am here to make you fluent in español. I know all of you have been studying the language for at least three years now, but there is still a lot to learn before you're done. Since this is an elective it is open for more than one class, so we do have some juniors and a couple sophomores here as well."

Ms. Rivera gestured to the bastard next to her. "This young man is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, who thought he could get away with an easy A because he's from Spain. But that won't be the case."

Antonio- the bastard- chuckled and waved slightly. "Hola." Lovino was still glaring when the two made eye contact, and the bastard did a double take. _That's right, wipe the fucking smile off your face._ Instead, his grin grew as he silently laughed a little and turned his gaze back to Señora Rivera.

Lovino was shocked. He had shot him one of his fiercest glares and the idiot had simply laughed at him, as if his fury was something to be played with! His face suddenly felt as if it was burning. How fucking dare he! He was so angry he didn't pay attention to the rest of Señora Rivera's talk of whatever shit she was going to make Antonio do or what he was to expect from the class. Occasionally he would feel the bastard's gaze on him, but he kept his head tilted down. He was not about to give the fucker the pleasure of seeing how flustered- pissed off he was.

"Hi."

Lovino jerked his head up and glared as the Spaniard sat himself in the desk next to him. "Go fuck yourself," he hissed in a quiet but dangerous tone.

Antonio blinked, then smiled as if he hadn't even been cursed at. As if he thought the whole thing was amusing, and Lovino wasn't an actual threat. _Watch out stronzo, I may be pathetically weak, but damn I could insult every single thing about you._

"What's your name?" Antonio asked, his green eyes dancing- fucking dancing. Lovino hated them; they were a bright emerald color, big, sparkling, and were framed with long lashes, crinkling at the corners as he smiled.

"Ugh. As if I would tell a bastard like you," he spat. "Figure it out yourself."

Antonio leaned back in his seat happily. "I will! I can ask Señora Rivera about the Italian student-"

"Who the fuck ever said I was Italian?"

"Hehe, your accent silly! It's very distinct."

"Alright estudiantes," Señora Rivera glanced up from the chart in her hands. "I'm going to take attendance."

Antonio grinned triumphantly while Lovino cursed under his breath. The persistent bastard would have found out eventually, but something about the whole situation got under his skin and annoyed him to no end. Maybe it was the victorious little smirk that was glued to the bastard's stupid face that pissed him off and made him want to punch him.

"Sadiq Adnan," Señora Rivera began. Some weirdo wearing a hoodie in the back of the room replied, "Present!"

Antonio was listening intently as he ran a hand through his unruly brown hair while Lovino slouched in his seat and groaned irritably. He was already so fed up and the day had barely begun! He wasn't sure if he could actually survive the entire day, especially not after that bastard learned his name and started calling for him every two seconds.

"Ludwig Beilschmidt."

 _What the fuck?!_ Lovino slammed a fist onto his desk as he spun around, nearly giving himself whiplash as he glared at the German a few rows down. He had been so busy complaining about shit that he hadn't even noticed that Feliciano's potato of a roommate was in the room as well. Fan-fucking-tastic. Ludwig made eye contact with him and nodded stiffly in recognition, while Lovino stealthily flipped him off and whirled back around with a huff.

"Do you know Ludwig?" The other bastard whispered.

"None of your fucking business." Antonio turned around and waved to the Potato.

"Antonio Carriedo."

"Present!" Lovino rolled his eyes.

"I know Ludwig," the stupid Spaniard said in a stage whisper. "He's the younger brother of my amigo Gilbert."

Lovino finally glared at him, even though he knew full and well that it did nothing against his idiotic cheerfulness. "I don't remember asking you for your-"

He suddenly stopped as a realization hit him. A German named Gilbert, that sounded like that arrogant fucker who had stolen Matthew's food the night before. _He's the Potato Bastard's brother!?_ He had to get both of those creeps away from his brother and his roommate, before he was left in an empty dorm room to eat pasta and rot.

"Lovino Vargas."

The Italian jerked his head up. "Here."

"Aha!" Antonio cheered. "Lovino Vargas! Such a cute name!"

Dio, the entire school was overrun by fucking creepy bastards.

* * *

 _ **And another chapter is done.**_

 _ **I am feeling so accomplished right now. A super big thank you to everyone who has read/followed/favorited/reviewed this story so far. I basically live off your support-so...I've decided to do something that I've wanted to do for a very long time, but I was either too lazy or just too busy to actually do. If you would be so kind as to leave me a review(even if it's an tiny one) I will respond to it with a PM. I really would like to feel closer to my readers and all that fluffiness :3**_

 _ **Okay. Enough of my ramblings that no one cares about. Chapter three is under construction and shall be up next week. I promise!**_

 _ **Stay awesome,**_

 _ **altera vita mea**_


	4. Chapter 3

_Chapter three_

Lovino was ranting again, waving his free arm with so much passion he nearly knocked his tray out of his hands. Matthew sent the weary eyed lunch lady an apologetic look as he glanced over the food options. Apparently every day the school served a dish from three of the countries represented, and today there was an Indian curry and chicken, an "unauthentic, cheap-ass Italian lasagna" as Lovino had called it, and chow mein with rice as a Chinese dish.

"I fucking hate this place," Lovino hissed under his breath as the cafeteria lady stepped away to grab another plate. In spite of all the complaints he had directed at the innocent lasagna he grabbed a plate of it and dropped it on his tray. "The students here are stupid! Spanish is going to be a pain in the ass anyway, but now it will be fucking worse with that idiot bastard ruining everything! He insisted on sitting next to me the entire time, and dio he wouldn't stop talking. What the hell does he see that makes him think I want to be talked to?!"

Matthew shrugged as he quickly grabbed a plate of Chinese food and moved down the line- the looks they were getting from the people on the other side of the counter were starting to worry him. "I don't know, maybe your angry face interests him?"

"Why?" Lovino grumbled behind him and followed him down the line to grab a drink and a dessert. "It's supposed to tell people to stay the fuck away."

Matthew shrugged again. "Maybe he's curious," he suggested, carefully balancing his food on his tray and scanning the cafeteria for an empty table. Alfred had offered two seats at his crowded table, but Matthew wasn't feeling up for it. He had met too many people for one day, that and he was sure his brother would mercilessly push every last one of Lovino's buttons.

"Curious of what?" The Italian walked past him toward a table he had somehow spotted.

"Maybe he wants to know why you're mad at the world."

Lovino sent him a slightly amused look over his shoulder. "Maybe I'd be less mad if the world hadn't thrown him into my shitty life." Matthew shook his head and opened his mouth to respond, but Lovino's hazel eyes suddenly narrowed on something behind the Canadian. "Speak of the fucking devil."

Before Matthew could react, his tray was taken out of his hands by someone behind him, who chuckled in a very distinct manner. "Kesesese! Don't freak out Mattie! We don't want you to drop your food again." Matthew felt his cheeks go warm as Gilbert's breath lightly tickled his ear, and turned to see the smirking albino, as well as Francis from that morning, and some guy he hadn't seen before. That must be the Antonio Lovino was complaining about, he noted as he saw his feisty roommate glare the other down. Glancing at the two he did know, he smiled a bit. "Hi-"

"What the fuck do you bastards want?!" Lovino interrupted with a literal growl.

Gilbert glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow. "Who are you?"

"I'm asking the questions, you asshat!"

"This is Lovino Vargas," the guy Matthew had identified as Antonio spoke up, casting a smile at the angry Italian. "From my Spanish class, remember?"

Francis smiled immediately. "Oh! So this is the Lovino you were talking so much about." His blue eyes flitted up and down briefly. "Vous avais raison, il est très mignon."

Matthew cringed slightly. _Good thing he doesn't speak French,_ he thought. _He'd explode-_

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU CALLING CUTE BASTARD!" Lovino screeched, clutching his tray so tightly it shook in his white-knuckled grasp.

Francis shook his head in wonder. "And just as foul tempered as Arthur. It's uncanny."

Antonio grinned. "You are cute, Lovi!"

The Italian sputtered furiously. "You little shit stain, my name is Lovino! And I'm not cute so shut the fuck up, stupid bastard!"

Gilbert, still holding Matthew's lunch, hummed in recognition. "Now I know why Vargas sounded so familiar. You're related to my baby brother's roommate, ja?"

Lovino stared Gilbert down, glancing him over with a sneer. "You're the Potato Bastard's older brother?"

"Yep! Awesome huh?"

"Awesome my ass," Lovino spat, turning to Matthew in annoyance. "Let's go, these idiots are wasting our lunch time."

"Okay," Matthew murmured and turned back to Gilbert. "Uh...I'll see you later maybe?"

"Don't fucking count on it," an Italian accent grumbled behind him.

Gilbert held on to the tray stubbornly. "Actually, I was wondering if you'd like to sit with us," he offered, a confidant smirk growing on his face. "We'll even tolerate the unawesome brat if you want."

Matthew blinked in surprise, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He didn't have anything against the three boys, but he knew for a fact that Lovino disliked all of them. And he wasn't about to ditch his roommate for people he hardly knew. Yet Gilbert looked so sure of himself, so positive that Matthew would say yes; it made it hard to say the opposite. "I...uh..."

Suddenly, a blond head pushed in between Francis and Antonio, flashing green eyes glaring at the two of them. "Excuse me wankers, but Matthew has already agreed to eat with me."

Gilbert glared at Arthur in annoyance. "Ugh, Toni your roommate shows up at the most unawesome times I swear. You didn't tell this guy you'd sit with him, did you Mattie?"

"Uh..."

"Yes he did!" Lovino snapped. "Now hand over his tray dammit! Why are you always trying to steal his food?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes and slowly handed Matthew back his tray. "Sorry..." The Canadian offered softly. Gilbert grinned and gave him a thumbs up. "No worries! You said it yourself that we will see each other later. The Awesome Me will hold you up to it!"

As the three of them walked away, Lovino let out a loud huff and looked at Arthur curiously. "I don't know who the fuck you are, but thanks."

Matthew nodded to the Brit as the three of them finally reached a table and set down their trays. "Lovino, this is Arthur Kirkland, one of the guys who helped me this morning. Arthur, this is Lovino Vargas- my roommate." If there was anything more stressful than meeting new people, it was introducing them to each other, Matthew decided. As the Canadian sat down next to Lovino, he cast a nervous glance across the table at Arthur, who was offering a polite handshake. Matthew hoped they would get along, they were both so opinionated and hot-tempered. What if they rubbed each other the wrong way? Matthew knew he couldn't pick sides; Arthur had been so nice and helpful, and Lovino wasn't as mean as he came across…

"So," Lovino began with a raised eyebrow. "It seems like you know those bastards."

Arthur rolled his eyes and poked at his food. "Unfortunately. Antonio seems to be rather interested in you, even I heard him going on like a baffoon earlier."

The Italian huffed. "Ne dubito. If he knows what's good for him he'll stay the fuck away from me."

"That's not likely. I room with the git, and I can say that common sense is not his strongpoint." Lovino cursed and inhaled a giant bite of lasagna while Matthew hummed in acknowledgement, glad the two weren't at each other's throats yet. "But," Arthur continued, turning to him with worried green eyes. "Things aren't only bad for me. Gilbert seems to be bothering you as well. Poor chap, you're so quiet you're not even sure how to tell him to sod off."

Matthew opened his mouth to protest, for he didn't think of Gilbert as annoying, and he definitely didn't despise him the way his friends hated the other two. Wait...were they even his friends? Matthew rubbed at his temples from underneath his golden locks of hair. Socializing was not for the faint at heart.

"Exactly my point!" Lovino was announcing, thumping his fist against the table. "The German bastard is trying to steal his food, and Matthew's so fucking passive he just stands there and lets it happen!"

 _He prefers to be called Prussian,_ Matthew corrected silently. _And he never stole my food; I gave it to him._ But he didn't say anything out loud, because he was sure Lovino didn't care about technicalities, and it would just make the situation awkward, right?

Arthur clasped his hands together and rested his chin against them in thought. "Hmmm… we appear to be in the same predicament then: you and Antonio, Gilbert and Matthew, and my issue with that stupid French Frog."

 _Are they even a problem?_ Matthew wondered. _I don't think they are; Francis was helping Arthur and I this morning, Antonio seems so happy and kind even when Lovino swears at him, and Gilbert actually notices me. Why is it a bad thing?_

"Matthew!"

The Canadian jumped slightly and glanced at Lovino, who was looking at him expectantly. "Huh?"

Rolling his eyes, Lovino repeated: "If we stick together, we can kick more ass than we would be able to alone, yes? We already hang out a lot, and Arthur isn't too much of a dick so I think I can tolerate him."

The Brit nodded, choosing to ignore Lovino's final comment. "We'd watch out for each other, and keep those creeps off our backs so we can stay sane. I must say it would be a glorious alliance."

Matthew pushed around the last pieces of rice on his plate. "So...we'd be friends?" He hadn't had a lot of friends in his life, he was much too quiet and reserved for that. And judging by the looks the other two exchanged he guessed they too had spent a lot of their lives without the company of others. It would be nice, Matthew decided. Sure, he was extremely shy, Lovino could have been a sailor in a past life with his colorful vocabulary, and Arthur was more than eager to judge anyone without a second thought, but maybe they'd learn something from each other's good qualities.

Surprisingly, it was Lovino who smiled slightly and quirked an eyebrow. "Why the hell not?"

* * *

Lovino's phone was ringing, and he didn't have to check the caller I.D. to figure out who it was. It was Feliciano, it always was. The idiot was probably going to once again beg him to go out with him and his stupid bastard of a roommate, to give him a chance and actually spent more than a few minutes with him. No fucking thank you.

Arthur glanced away from the oven to look at him quizzically. "Aren't you going to answer that?"

Lovino shook his head stubbornly and kicked his legs against the counter he was sitting on. "Hell no. It's just my brother trying to force me into some stupid activity with him and his bastard Potato."

The three new friends were in the dormitory's kitchen, for they had quickly grown tired of spending all their time in Lovino and Matthew's small room, no one wanted to go out into the quad swarming with annoying humans, and they would be out of their minds to retreat to Arthur's room, where the door could swing open at any time and reveal that stupid Tomato Bastard(Lovino was proud of that nickname; who the fuck eats tomatoes whole like that). The kitchen had been the only other option, but they were fine with that.

Arthur had insisted on making his "world famous scones" and since Matthew had quietly commended the food, Lovino had agreed. But even with Matthew's recommendation, the uncertain way the Brit ambled about the kitchen was slightly unnerving. "Are you sure you know what the fuck you're doing?" He asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

Arthur scoffed as he slid the baking tray into the oven. "Of course."

Things simmered to a slightly awkward silence- until Lovino's phone started ringing again. This time even Matthew spoke up. "He seems to be calling you a lot, eh?"

"I guess. Feliciano is a persistent brat who doesn't understand that no means fucking no." Lovino shrugged carelessly, while Arthur casually leaned against the opposite counter and shot him a look. "Perhaps it would be best if you just answer. If you do what he wants every once in awhile then he should stop nagging you constantly."

The Italian silenced his phone stubbornly and glared. "What the hell do you know, asshole?"

Arthur cocked an abnormally large eyebrow in amusement. "I have four brothers, I know quite a bit actually."

"Oh." Lovino glanced down at his phone, narrowing his eyes at it in distaste. "So if I waste a fraction of my shitty life hanging out with them, he'll get the hint that I fucking hate it and his friend so he'll shut up?"

"For a while at least," Arthur nodded.

Matthew blinked from behind his glasses. "And you've got to admit that it's better than every other minute."

"That is true." Making up his mind, Lovino hopped off the counter and made his way to the door. "Alright, I know you two bastards just want to get rid of me. Try not to have too much fun, capisce?" Arthur simply laughed, while Matthew murmured in a voice barely audible. "We'll save you a scone."

 _Please don't,_ Lovino thought as he pursed his lips and left the room. He felt bad for Matthew, but it was his fault for going along with the Brit's stupid idea to make scones. Hopefully the two of them will notice the fucking trail of smoke coming from the damn oven before something caught on fire.

He quickly punched his brother's number into his phone as he walked towards his room, waiting for the other to pick up. He didn't have long to wait, for Feliciano answered almost before it started ringing. " _Ciao fratellone. I know you said you wanted nothing to do with Ludwig, but I barely get to see you anymore and that makes me sad. Ludwig found out that I like art, so he's going to take me to this really cool art museum not far from here and it would be fantastico if you would come too. You love art too, fratello! If you want you can bring someone else with you, that way you won't have to talk to Ludwig if you don't want to, but he is a really nice guy you should try to give him a chance, but-"_

"Feli-" Lovino attempted to interrupt his brother's crazy ramblings.

" _I know you'll probably say no and you're mad at me for asking, but I really miss you Lovi!"_

"Feli!" Lovino's voice came out gruffer than he had wanted it to, but at least it got him to shut up- for half a second.

" _Mi dispiace… I-"_

"Sí."

" _Ve?!"_

Lovino huffed and rubbed at his temples. "Sí, I'll go idiota. But just this one fucking time, dammit."

" _Yay!"_ Feliciano cheered excitedly. " _I'm so happy! Do you want to bring someone with you?"_

"I do, but-" He cut himself off with a shake of his head. Matthew and Arthur should stay together in case one of the members of the Bad Touch Trio(as they were apparently called) came to bother them. He would love to invite Emma, but he knew that her cranky older brother would rather wait for hell to freeze over than to let her go anywhere with one, let alone three males. There wasn't really anyone else…

For some odd reason, the Tomato Bastard's face floated into his mind, but he quickly stomped it back out. He was not that fucking desperate! In a worst case scenario he could simply ditch Feli and the Potato in a different part of the museum and call for...someone...to pick him up.

"Everyone's busy," he grumbled.

Feli hummed in understanding. " _Don't worry fratello!"_ He said. " _I know someone who'll be more than happy to come with us! We'll be outside the dorm in ten minutes, okay? Ciao!"_

Lovino shrugged as he pocketed his phone and trudged to his room to change. _I guess it doesn't matter,_ he thought. _If this person keeps me from having to look at the Potato Bastard's stupid face then I don't give a damn. It doesn't matter who the hell it is, right?_

Wrong, he realized the second he exited the building. Fucking wrong. "Kesesesese! Lovino Vargas, notorious unawesome grouch," Gilbert greeted with a smirk.

Lovino glared back at him. "Gilbert fucking Beilschmidt, arrogant son of a bitch," he retorted.

Ignoring the slightly spiteful exchange, Feli smiled warmly. "Ve, so you two know each other? Quello è buono! Lovino, he's Ludwig's fratello."

"I know," the elder Vargas spat out, itching to run back to the safety of the kitchen. He might be able to survive eating Arthur's fucked up scones, but there was no way he could handle two Potatoes without losing his sanity!

The albino was laughing as the quartet made their way to the crappy silver Honda in the parking lot. "I do have a very important question for you," he said, turning to Lovino with an inquisitive look in his red eyes. "What the hell have you done to my friend?"

The Italian scowled. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"Oh, you know," Gilbert waved a hand in the air. "It's just that this entire week, Antonio hardly ever talks about anything but you. Every day, it's 'guys, guess what Lovi said today.' What did you do, brainwash him?"

"Why the hell would I do that, asshat?" Lovino bristled indignantly. "You think I what your stupid bastard of a friend to bother me?"

"Probably."

"You fucking shit stain-"

"Who's Antonio?" Felicinao interrupted, grinning at his brother with curiosity.

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Some bastard freak who won't leave me alone. I glare at him, he smiles. I cuss at him, he laughs. I get pissed off and he fucking calls me cute." He puffed out his cheeks in irritation, the very thought of Antonio cooing over his angry face and comparing it to a tomato made him furious.

Feli giggled. "Ve, he must be special if he's so nice even when you're being mean. I wonder if he likes you…" Before Lovino could unleash his anger on his unfortunate brother, the oblivious Italian started to tug on his roommate's sleeve. "Let's get going, Luddy!"

 _Luddy?!_ Lovino glowered at the German and watched as the two got into the back seat. Gilbert grinned. "Looks like I'm driving!" _No fucking way am I ever going through this shit again,_ he told himself throughout the following ten minutes. _Next time I'll just eat Arthur's burnt scones._

"Psst! Lovino!"

He tore his eyes away from the painting he had been trying to look at and glared at Gilbert. "What the fuck do you want?"

"How's Matthew doing?" The albino asked.

"He's doing great without an asshole like you," Lovino snapped.

"Ouch. For some awesome reason, I think those words came from you and not him."

Lovino's eyes narrowed on the arrogant bastard's smirking face. "Vaffanculo."

Jerking his head back around, the Italian went back to admiring the painting. World Art Museum had been built shortly after the grand opening of the Academy- a few years after World War II. It was filled with the works of the best artists the school had ever had, so it was very likely that Feliciano would get something in one day.

The painting Lovino was looking at was rather incredible, and he knew he could only dream of painting that well. It was a beautiful creation of a man sitting on a step outside, playing a guitar for a couple of kids dancing in the street. They looked so happy and lively, the sun was peaking out of the clouds and was shining down on them. Only the musician himself remained in the shadow, and that sparked an interest in the Italian. Even though his creation could lighten those around him, he was still in despair.

Lovino glanced down at the title with wide eyes. He wasn't sure what astonished him the most, the painting or its artist…

"Hey! That's Toni's painting you know!" A loud voice rasped into his ear, making him jump as he spun around to glare at Gilbert again.

"Would you mind shutting the fuck up?" He demanded, planting his hands on his hips.

The other chuckled. "Sorry!" He whispered in a voice that could hardly be considered a whisper as he pointed to himself. "Naturally loud. It comes with the awesomeness."

"Yeah yeah, that's-" Lovino stopped himself, eyes widening. Loud. Gilbert was fucking loud. Matthew liked loud people. Gilbert liked harassing Matthew. _Dammit this shit is bad!_

The albino was pointing at the painting. "Surprising huh? Toni's always been amazing with the arts, all of them actually. Painting, cooking, music, you name it he can do it. It's crazy, but it's awesome. He doesn't really paint anymore though, this was one of his last." Gilbert shrugged. "Francis is good too, and I think he has one or two pieces in here. I've got talant too, you know, but I am way too awesome for a crummy museum like this."

"Sure." Lovino rolled his eyes in annoyance. "I never asked you to give me a fucking summary of you and your asshole friends' stupid talents. In case you didn't notice, I don't give a shit."

"Really? You seem pretty interested in Toni's work though."

Lovino flushed indignantly. "I...it's fucking less retarded than the bastard artist, okay?"

"Whatever you say." Gilbert glanced down a few displays to where Ludwig and Feliciano were standing, his lips twisting into his signature smirk. "Do with think they're together?"

"Che?" Lovino squeaked slightly at the unexpected question. "No, you idiot. Of course they're not."

"I dunno, look at them."

The Italian obeyed with a begrudging grumble, his sharp hazel eyes narrowing at the closeness between the two of them. Ludwig's arm slightly brushed against Feliciano's as he pointed out an element of the painting they were looking at. Feli giggled quietly and nodded, looking more at the German than at the art before he decided to move to the next display, dragging Ludwig by the arm. The Potato blushed lightly, and even after they stopped moving the hand lingered on his arm.

"Mein Gott," Gilbert breathed, excitement lighting his entire face. "They are so banging."

"Shut up!" Lovino hit him in the chest. "You fucking sick freak, those are our younger brothers you're talking about!"

Gilbert decided to ignore the insult, his smile growing as he slung an arm over Lovino's small shoulders. "This is so awesome!" He announced, pumping his free fist into the air. "If they're being this touchy in public can you imagine what they're doing all alone in their room every night?"

No, Lovino did not want to imagine that! He felt sick enough already.

"I've always thought West was just a prude who would live his life without the touch of another human," Gilbert continued gleefully. "There is not a more awesome time for me to be wrong! He was just waiting for your little brother this entire time!"

Lovino weakly pulled out of the weird albino's grasp. "We don't know that yet," he insisted. "I...uh… Feli would have told me if he...no…"

Gilbert shrugged. "Maybe not. But they've obviously got feelings for each other, and they're rooming with each other with no interruptions. Hey, we're all human."

Lovino shook his head stubbornly, pacing back and forth in an anxious manner. "Sono un tale idiota," he grumbled. "This is my fucking fault! I should have realized this shit would happen! My little brother could have been raped by some macho Potato Bastard because I was the idiot who let him run off with him! Fuck fuck fuck!"

Gilbert shook his head. "Hey," he said, interrupting Lovino's rant by placing his hands on the shorter's shoulders. "It's not that bad Lovino. Mein bruder is a good person, even though you seem to disagree with that. If they actually had sex there was no raping involved and Feliciano was completely on board with it. I promise."

Lovino sniffled and dug his fingernails into the pale skin of Gilbert's arm. "They've done nothing," he hissed in determination. "And they won't do fucking anything in the future because I'm going to make sure of it dammit! And you're going to help me."

"Help you?" Gilbert repeated.

"Yes stupid bastard. My brother is an innocent little freshman. It's too soon for him to lose his virginity to- to a fucking Potato like your brother alright? I swear if he's touched him in any perverted way I will castrate him with a rusty knife that my Nonno's father gave to him! And the same fucking thing will happen to you if you don't help me!"

The albino held up his arms in surrender, eyes growing wide with terror. "Okay! Okay! That won't be necessary! You win!"

Lovino eyed him suspiciously. "Really?"

"Ja!" Gilbert smirked. "Don't you know how awesome it is to meddle with West's life?"

* * *

"The scones were...great Arthur. Thank you," Matthew murmured weakly, looking rather pale. "But I think I'm coming down with a cold or something, I've been feeling odd all day."

Arthur cringed slightly and nodded. "I think I'll get some rest," the Canadian continued quietly. "I'll see you tomorrow right?"

"Right," Arthur echoed, watching as his new friend disappeared down the hall.

His large eyebrows furrowed as he shot the baking tray a nasty look. "Don't look so bloody innocent!" He hissed. "I know it was you!" Why could he never get that scone recipe right? Every single time his result was a batch of a bland disgrace for food. He was used to the chalky taste by now, but to someone else- like poor Matthew- it must be truly dreadful. _I hope he doesn't think I was trying to poison him!_ He thought, a cold shiver going down his spine as he attempted to wash the black crust from the tray. _At least nothing caught on fire this time... Lovino is lucky he took off before they were done. Just once I would like to cook a decent batch of- of anything! That's all I ask for!_

After he finally managed to clean up his mess, Arthur shoved his hands into his pockets and left the dormitory. He wasn't in the mood to go back to his room, who knew if his wanker of a roommate was lurking around, breaking the rules and bringing his friends- _bringing that frog_ \- into his room. No thank you, Arthur believed that a walk would do much more for his nerves. Unfortunately, it was the first weekend since school had started, and the campus was crawling with people, loud obnoxious people who laughed as if they were possessed by demons, who did stupid skateboard tricks on the railings, who made out shamelessly under a tree. Arthur felt absolutely sick.

"Hey Artie!"

The Brit groaned in irritation, knowing full and well that the only person who would ever call him that was that annoying git from his math class, the one who laughed at his eyebrows and asked the teacher stupid questions. Sure enough, there was Alfred Jones waving at him from his large group of friends.

 _How on earth can he be related to Matthew?_ Arthur thought. _Sure they look alike, but their personalities couldn't be more different._ Matthew was so quiet, gentle, and all in all a polite and kind person. Alfred on the other hand was a loud social butterfly who said whatever he wanted with no contemplation or tact. The difference was almost as drastic as Lovino and his brother.

"Dude!" Alfred was suddenly walking right next to him. "Why are you walking all by yourself, huh? It's the weekend- live a little bro!"

Arthur scoffed. "Quite frankly, what I do is none of your business."

"You seriously don't have any friends? Dude, that's hard, but I've gotta tell you, maybe you'd be a little more approachable if you got rid of the caterpillars on your head."

"Caterpillars?!" Arthur sputtered angrily.

Alfred shook his head with a smile. "If you're really that desperate for friends though, you can chill with me and my homies. Just to show you the kind of guy I am."

"I already know what kind of person you are," the Brit retorted, quickening his pace. "Annoying, loud, obnoxious, and arrogant. And even if I was desperate for companionship, I'd rather make friends with a frog than waste my time with your stupidness."

Alfred groaned and stopped walking. "You know what? I don't care!" He said loudly. "You're a jerk anyway." Arthur rolled his eyes. This school received the strangest kids on the planet for sure.

The library looked like a welcoming retreat, warm and silent, filled with an abundance of amazing literature and an absence of ignorant idiots. Arthur found himself smiling as he walked in, the very atmosphere was soothing. After he checked in he plunged right into the long aisles of bookshelves, emerging after a few minutes with his new find- a collection of stories written by Edgar Allen Poe. He had read most of them before, but there was something about the familiarity of reading the same book over again, it was like meeting an old friend once again. Arthur settled himself at a table towards the back of the library and opened the book, more than content to sit there until the building closed.

He was just finishing 'The Masque of the Red Death' when someone behind him cleared their throat. "Bonjour. May I sit here?"

Arthur jumped and slammed the book closed to shoot an angry look at the newcomer. He knew he shouldn't be surprised; for some odd reason the members of the Bad Touch Trio were experts at finding where he and his new comrades were hiding out. It was borderline stalkerish, and it was beyond irritating. "No you may not sit here!" He hissed.

Francis smiled and held up one of the two mugs he was holding. "Too bad. I even bought something for you from the café next door."

"So you've been watching me for quite some time then," Arthur sputtered.

"Non. I just saw you go into the library. Don't flatter yourself mon cher, I wasn't stalking you." Francis had tied his hair back today, with only a few strands that danced about his shoulders as he shook his head.

Arthur huffed. He had only wanted a few hours to himself, but this frog had to ruin everything! Still...he was rather curious. "What did you get me...Frog?" He asked slowly, raising a large eyebrow.

The Frenchman's eyes lit up. "Ah, Earl Grey tea."

Arthur's eyebrow twitched. "That's bloody stereotyping, you git!"

A look of irritation flashed across Francis' face as he pulled back the mug. "You don't want it then? Too bad- I'll just find a cute girl to give it to."

"Good riddance," Arthur griped, reopening his book. He wanted to read 'The Black Cat' again, but his thoughts kept wandering back to the tempting cup of tea that was slowly retreating with the Frenchman. Earl Grey was his favorite after all, stereotypes be damned! Besides, who was he to deny a free drink?

"Wait." The word escaped his mouth before he really had the chance to mull it over, and it was too late to take it back, Francis was already giving him a look over his shoulder. "I just...are you sure you didn't spit in it or something?"

Francis slowly turned back around, a smile slipping back onto his face. "Of course not," he said haughtily. "I'm a gentleman."

Arthur laughed out loud. "You? A gentleman? That is a joke. I've never met a polite frog before." Even so, he still accepted the mug that was once again offered to him, and even muttered a soft word of gratitude, because _he_ at least was a gentleman. He eyed the other carefully as he took a slow sip, watching for any cruel look to cross his face. Francis merely flipped his hair and took a seat across from him. The tea was delectable, but he didn't say that.

"I never told you to sit down," he pointed out as he set down the mug.

Francis took a long sip of his own drink and gazed out the window in boredom. "I don't remember hearing that you own the chair I'm sitting on."

"But I was here first!" Arthur demanded, slamming his book shut- again. He ignored the warning look the person at the front desk was giving him and glared at Francis. "It's polite to wait for my permission! You don't know anything about being a gentleman, I swear!"

A challenging look flashed in the other's blue eyes. "Ah, but what could a little black sheep know about politeness?"

"What the devil does that mean you wanker?"

"It means that you obviously don't have the social skills to be a gentleman. How can you be courteous when you are always by yourself, hm?"

"You are infuriating!" Arthur scoffed, standing up. "Drink your bloody tea, I'm not touching anything that your filthy hands have infected!" Edgar Allan Poe would have to wait for another day, Arthur needed to stop by the cafe and get his own Earl Grey tea.

* * *

 ** _The trio has been born my friends! I loved writing this chapter... I hope you all enjoyed it._**

 ** _A super big thank you to everyone supporting this story! And a shout out to those lovely guest reviews who I cannot thank in a PM, I love you all and thank you! Honestly, I wouldn't be able to write if it wasn't for everyone who reads, enjoys, and let's me know in some way shape or form. *Clears throat and talks in a failed attempt at a Netherlands impersonation* Reviews make the world go round._**

 ** _Until net time, stay awesome!_**

 ** _altera vita mea_**


	5. Chapter 4

_Chapter four_

If Antonio stopped to think about it, his job was incredible easy. Señora Rivera gave him minimal homework, and all he really had to do was act like the woman's personal assistant: making last minute copies, setting up the projector, answering questions when the teacher was busy, and even offering tutoring for the students who were struggling. Some- like Gilbert- would say that the work was unfair, but Antonio didn't mind it. As long as he had time for fútbol practice, his guitar, studying for himself, and a few hours with his friends, he was absolutely fine. He had always liked people. Besides, the class gave him a solid A, and that was something he desperately needed. He was not planning on getting kicked off the soccer team do to grades again- freshman year was a dark time.

But the greatest part about the class was the cute little Italian sitting next to him... Couldn't he ask for his help just once? The Spaniard had a hunch that Lovino wasn't particularly good at the language, he always managed to somehow avoid most of the spoken exercises, and he frequently growled quietly at his book in frustration. Antonio wanted to help him, he went out of his way to offer his assistance, but every time his proposal was met by a stubborn, "Not from you, bastard."

He sighed slightly as he snuck another glance to his left and he couldn't do much for the smile that slipped onto his face in the process. Lovino was scowling at his paper, his lower lip protruding ever so slightly in a small pout, his flashing hazel eyes swept from the paper to his book, his slender fingers gripped his pencil as he tapped it against the desk in irritation. He really was fascinating.

"Toni?"

Antonio jumped slightly and tore his eyes away from Lovino- again- as he turned to the source of the voice. "¿Sí?"

The person calling to him was a girl who asked for his help often, the type that gave his friends different ideas as to why she was constantly getting his attention: "You see, mon ami, I don't think she wants your help in the class per se. She would probably like your help in-" "She wants your bod!" "Giving her amour, Gilbert!" "Especially your ass though. What Franny? You know it's true! Gott, stop romanticizing everything!"

Antonio shook the thoughts out of his head and smiled at the girl(what was her name again?), who batted her eyes at him. "Do you think you could help me?"

"Yes of course." He slipped out of his desk, not without glancing at Lovino as he passed without any reaction from the Italian, and walked a few seats over to where the girl was sitting. "How may I help you, chica?"

She giggled, twirling a long lock of hair around her finger as she blinked up at him. "I'm having some translation problems. If I give you a sentence or two in English could you help me figure it out in Spanish? Please?"

Antonio nodded brightly. "Yeah. No hay problema."

"Gracias," she smiled, pressing a light touch to his forearm. "I'm so glad you're here to help out Antonio."

A loud snort of disgust from the corner of the room caught the Spaniard's attention, especially when he remembered the who was sitting in that corner. Jerking his head up he managed to make eye contact with those striking eyes, smiling at their owner. Said owner returned the look with a mocking curl of the lip and offered him his middle finger.

"Lovino?"

Considering the moment Señora Rivera decided to call him caused the Italian to freeze, slowly turning back toward the front with an adorably red face. "Uh...sí Signora?"

The teacher's smile was clouded with concern, but she didn't look angry. Good, maybe that means she hadn't seen Lovi's little hand gesture. "I need to speak with you after class; it should only take a minute." Lovino nodded and turned back to his work without a sound, and Antonio finally brought his eyes back to his present task. "Oh, and Antonio?"

He glanced back up at his teacher. "Yes?"

"I'll need you to stay a moment too."

"Okay."

The Spaniard spent the rest of the class moving from desk to desk, helping out anyone who asked without really thinking about it, his mind was on the impending meeting with Señora Rivera. He wasn't really concerned for himself; she probably needed him to do a quick task for her, but he was worried about Lovino. He wasn't going to get in trouble for something was he? That would be terrible!

After the bell rang, Antonio anxiously lingered in the room, sending nods and smiles to everyone- mostly the girls- who promised to text him if they ran into a problem with their homework. How did they all have his number? Oh, right. He gave it to them. He exhaled and leaned against his desk casually, nodding to the Italian to talk with the teacher first.

Lovino merely huffed and marched up to her desk, obviously blaming Antonio for whatever this was about. "Antonio, I need you up here too," Señora Rivera nodded.

"Oh… Sorry." He pushed himself off the desk and made his way next to his classmate. "Did we do something wrong, Señora?"

The teacher shook her short black curls in reassurance. "Not exactly, at least not in the way you're thinking." The woman stood up and sat back down on the edge of her desk, sorting through some of the papers next to her. "I'm a bit concerned with your grades Lovino."

The Italian sucked in a sharp breath and released it, drumming his fingers on the base of the desk. "Yeah… I know," he finally grumbled.

"What worries me is that you haven't even bothered to get help," Ms. Rivera continued, glancing up at him. "If you don't want to ask me, Antonio's always willing to help you know."

Lovino seemed to think that the floor was more interesting, but Antonio could still see his right eyelid twitch in irritation. He sent him a smile. "I could tutor you Lovi," he said happily.

The other finally jerked his eyes away from the carpet and glared at him instead. "No-"

"Actually, I think that's a great idea!" Señora Rivera interjected, clapping her hands loudly. "In fact, I highly recommend it. I would tutor you myself, but I have so many classes that don't have a fluent Spanish speaker that are simply desperate for my help."

Lovino's frown was growing by the second. "If I'm failing, don't I qualify for being desperate for your help?" He grumbled, somehow managing not to curse.

"Ah, but you're an Italian speaker, which is not that far from Español, and your records say that you've learned several other languages as well. All you need is a small push, and everyone tells me that Antonio is a wonderful teacher."

"I highly doubt that," Lovino scoffed.

Señora Rivera sighed, slipping off her desk as she noticed new students stumbling into the room. "Well, it's either that or you fail the class- which would not be pretty for either of us, right? I'm requiring a minimum of three sessions with Antonio a week until you get at least a B. Am I clear?"

Antonio grabbed his belongings and nodded, "Yes ma'am."

Lovino pulled himself up to his full height, clutching his fists in barely suppressed anger as he nodded once, grabbed at his books, and stormed out of the classroom. Señora Rivera's eyes followed him out as she sighed. "I'm sorry for putting that on you Antonio," she said tiredly. "I know he's can be a bit of a handful."

"No, it's fine!" He said quickly, his smile growing wide. "I'll see you tomorrow!" He nearly sprinted out of the classroom after the Italian, hoping he wouldn't lose him in the hall. Luckily the crowd was already thinning out, and he could still see Lovino's lithe body marching off. "Lovino! Wait up!"

He did no such thing, in fact he started walking faster, but Antonio used his longer legs to his advantage and sprinted after him, shuffling his papers into one arm so he could grab Lovino's wrist. "Bastard! Let me go!" He hissed, jerking his limb out of the Spaniard's grasp. Antonio caught a brief glance at his red face before he spun back around and slipped behind a group of people.

"But how am I going to contact you?" He asked, trying to follow the other but crashing into people as he did so. "Lo siento! I didn't mean to! Lovi!"

"Stop fucking calling me that!"

Antonio disentangled himself from the flow and ran after him again, this time when he caught up he got in front of him and turned to look at him pleadingly, walking backwards to stay ahead of the determined Italian. "Okay! I understand if you don't want to give me your number," he said hurriedly, offering a sheepish smile. "But we have to work something out! A time and place, right?"

Lovino's eyes flicked to his face before he closed them in annoyance as he shook his head. "You're fucking crazy. Va via bastardo."

"Do you know where the café is?" Antonio asked, trying not to sound too desperate. Dios, he had followed him all around the school and was now late for his next class, of course he was desperate! Lovino rolled his eyes, but nodded. "Okay...um...meet me there at six?"

"Fine," the other muttered. He looked rather angry, until his lips suddenly twisted into a smirk.

Antonio's face lit up, too excited to notice the change. "Really? Muy bien! I'll see you- oof!" His head collided with a locker forcefully, sending the Spaniard to the ground in ungraceful lump of pain. "Owwww..."

Lovino stopped walking and glanced down at him. _Awwwww, is he going to help me up? How cu-_ His thoughts were interrupted by Lovino's laugh, which left him completely speechless. He could only stare up at the other with wonder, it was the loveliest thing he had ever heard; his chuckle was a rich bubbly baritone that rang off his ears. Wow, Antonio wanted to record it and play it over and over again. "At six- Tomato Bastard."

A roguish smirk settled on his face as he walked away, leaving Antonio on the ground with a pounding head and a dopey smile on his face. He rubbed at the back of his head as he gathered his things and stood back up, turning around to find his next class. He couldn't wait until six- and until Francis and Gilbert heard about it!

* * *

"Okay we get it!" Gilbert snarled, stabbing at his food. "Can you shut up? It's not like you're going on a date!"

Francis frowned and lightly slapped the Prussian's hand. "Don't snap at him like that!" He turned and sent the Spaniard a reassuring smile. "Don't worry mon ami, a private tutoring session is half a step away from a romantic date, non? Who knows, maybe it will be in the darkest corner of the library where your passion will bloom."

"Oh gag me," Gilbert griped. "With a spoon."

Antonio's eyes grew wide with hurt. "¿Por qué son tan malos?" He wailed, taking a sloppy bite out of his tomato, resulting in making a mess of his face. "I thought you'd be happy for me."

"I am. Couldn't you tell?" Gilbert snorted sarcastically.

"Actually no. I can't tell when you're clearly acting bitchy about this." The Spaniard's eyes had grown dark in frustration, but he still had tomato juice smeared across his left cheek. And that was hilarious apparently. Gilbert simply tilted his silver head back and laughed, much to Antonio's annoyance.

Francis sighed slightly; it was time to step in- again. He was the eldest of the three of them by only six months, but sometimes he felt so much older; especially when Gilbert was going through his bouts of grumpiness and when Antonio's graciously lenient patience finally wore thin. "Seriously, both of you need to stop," he chastised with a shake of his long locks. "The two of you are fighting even more than usual. It's not healthy you know. And it makes us look bad."

Gilbert crossed his arms and frowned. "As if people have good opinions of us anyway."

"Hush. What has gotten into you lately? You're more touchy than you were when you found out Elizabeta was dating Roderich."

"That's because he's an unawesome douchebag-smelling rat and my friend deserves better," he huffed, slowly raising an eyebrow at Antonio and pointing at his own cheek. "Toni, you've got something on your face…"

The Spaniard immediately grabbed for a napkin and rubbed at his right cheek. "Do I? Did I get it?" Francis shook his head with a smile. Gilbert's observation was an apology and all three of them knew it, if he was actually mad he would have let Antonio walk around all day with food on his face, laughing the entire time.

"Let me help," he offered, taking the napkin and gently wiping at the other cheek. "Hm, Antoine what are we going to do with you?"

"Ahhaha...I don't know…" he laughed and rubbed the back of his head with an embarrassed smile on his face.

Francis retracted his arm, after giving the other a pat on the cheek, and raised an eyebrow at Gilbert. "You still didn't answer my question you know," he pointed out.

With a groan, he leaned away from the table and shrugged. "Well, it's just that I'm the only one who seems to know just how crappy our situation is. We used to be able to have anyone we wanted you know, it was awesome that way. But now-" he pointed at Antonio. "Now the closest thing we've gotten is Lovino getting forced into tutoring sessions with Antonio. Wow, isn't that awesome? So much better than the attempts we've been making for the past month! We are getting nowhere!"

"Well then why don't you just give up!" Antonio suggested, his smile beginning to disappear again.

"Shut up Toni! I never said that!"

"Guys!" Francis moaned, rubbing at his temples. "What did I just say about fighting?"

"Ah, lo siento Francis."

"Hmph."

The Frenchman took a deep breath and stroked at the stubble on his chin. "Gilbert's not wrong. There is power in numbers, and they know that. Do you notice the three of them are inseparable now? Look at them."

The Bad Touch Trio slowly leaned forward on the table and rested their chins on their hands as they glanced across the cafeteria at the table they had been trying to lay siege to for weeks. Francis hummed softly, a smile spreading to his face at the sight of Arthur, who was in some loud conversation with Lovino while Matthew listened in and interjected every once in awhile. The Brit was so confident, so sure that he was always in the right even when it was obvious that he was dead wrong. Francis just loved to waltz over and burst his bubble, he'd always get so angry and flustered, desperately flailing about to secure his footing with a smart, stinging comeback.

"Francis?"

He started and glanced at his two friends. "Huh?"

"Not that I'm not enjoying staring at Mattie like a creep," Gilbert began. "But weren't you making a point?"

"Of course." Francis shook his head. "They know we can't make any advances when they are all together like that. Arthur and Lovino's anger tend to bounce off each other, and there is no way to talk to Matthew with either of them around."

Antonio shuffled in his seat restlessly. "That makes sense."

"Okay," Gilbert nodded. "Sure. We all know that. Do you have a plan, Oh Great and Awesome Wisdom Holder?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Antonio is on the right track already, it's not like Arthur or Matthew can sit in on their tutoring session. Keep it up- no one can resist your Spanish charms and good looks for long!"

Antonio smiled "Okay!"

"And Gilbert, you have a class with sweet Matthew, don't you?"

"Yeah, art. But he keeps acting unawesomely awkward around me thanks to your British and Italian interests."

"Use that time to your advantage. If you do, your job will end up easier than ours. I'm sure of it."

Gilbert smirked. "Awesomeness."

"Um, I have a question," Antonio murmured, scrunching his nose in thought. "What about you, Francis? How are you going to win Arthur over?" He made a slight face as he said the name, but he still managed to keep a smile the entire time. Francis still caught the look; it was obvious that Antonio didn't like the Brit, but he never uttered a bad word about him- at least not in front of Francis. He was still trying to figure out if it was considerate or not, on one hand it was annoying when Gilbert bluntly voiced his dislikes, but if he thought about it how many other people did the friendly Spaniard actually not get along with. _Relax,_ he told himself. _If Antonio honestly thought Arthur was a bad person he wouldn't encourage me. Their personalities just don't mix well._

Francis pressed his lips together in concentration. "Well...I..." He had always prided himself with being an expert on the matter of love, but in all honesty he sometimes consumed himself in helping out his friends that he forgot all about his own love life. Far too many times Francis had come up with rather ingenious ways to smoothly avoid all the girls- and some guys- who wanted to ask out Antonio and Gilbert and helped them plan out how to ask the ones they were actually wanted to go with, and it wouldn't be until much later when Gilbert finally asked, "So... Who are you taking?"

Francis laughed a little. "Of course I have a plan!" He lied. "I'm just working out the details." Fooling the oblivious Spaniard was extremely easy, but it always made him feel guilty- even if it was the smallest white lie. Antonio smiled brightly and clasped his shoulder. "Good deal, mi amigo. You deserve it."

Francis smiled weakly. "Merci." Hearing the soft cough behind him, he turned to see Gilbert quirking an eyebrow at him. He wasn't falling for it. 'I'm working on it,' he mouthed. The Prussian merely shook his head.

* * *

Gilbert walked out of the cafeteria with a purpose; he had his art class next, and he was determined to get more than a few nervous stutters out of Matthew today!

"Hey bastard." He froze in his tracks and turned to Lovino, who was trying to catch up to him. "Hey."

The Italian finally approached him and leaned against the wall to avoid the oncoming students. "You still didn't figure anything out, did you?" He asked in annoyance.

Gilbert shook his head. "Not at all. West is awesomely good at keeping secrets."

The other sighed, then glanced around as if looking for someone. "Well, while you were fucking around wasting time, I got us this!" He shoved a key into his face with so much force Gilbert had to lean back so he wouldn't lose an eye.

"Awesome! What is it for?"

"Idiot, what the hell do you think? It's a fucking key to their dorm room, dammit."

Eyes widening, he reached out and took the key, flipping it over in his hand. "No way. How'd you get them to give it to you?" The small smirk on the other's usually scowling face answered the question for him. "You stole-"

"Shut the fuck up bastard!" Lovino hissed, quickly covering his mouth and glaring up at him. "Do you want to get caught?" Gilbert shook his head slightly, and the hand was removed from his mouth and wiped on his sleeve in disgust. "It's more like borrowing anyway," he corrected as he crossed his arms. "I'll return his shit before my airheaded brother even realizes it's gone. Problema risolto."

"Huh. What are you planning on doing in the meantime?"

"No bastard, it's what you are planning on doing." Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "Don't fucking look at me like that," Lovino rolled his eyes. "I would gladly do it myself, but since I got forced to work with your tomato loving bastard friend I can do shit. Now listen; our brothers are going out tonight for some stupid sounding study group. You are going to break in- I mean you'll fucking check out their place for anything suspicious, alright? And if you don't than I'll just have to-"

"Got it," Gilbert interrupted with a grin. He really didn't want to hear Lovino's threats, they could get slightly disturbing. Like how he claimed he'd skin him with some kind of kitchen utensil and give him a bath in alcohol? He still cringed when he thought about it. Not that he was scared of the small Italian maniac! He was way too awesome to be scared! "Don't worry kiddo! The Awesome Me will get the job done no problem!"

"You fucking better," he muttered as he walked past him, delivering a punch to his arm as he did so. "And I'm not a kid, idiotic bastard."

Gilbert shook his head and pocketed the key, he really was something else. He had only taken a step when a pair of hands suddenly grabbed him from behind and pushed him back against the wall. "Hola!"

"Was zum Teufel?" He roughly shoved the other off him and frowned. "What is your problem Antonio? You almost gave me a heart attack!"

Antonio smiled apologetically, but Gilbert noticed it seemed forced. "Lo siento, it was an accident."

 _Oh accident my ass,_ he thought. _Sneaky little-_ "Yeah yeah, whatever. What's your deal?"

He looked confused. "Huh? I don't have a...you make it sound like I'm mad." Antonio's smile faltered a little, his eyes widening. "I'm not mad Gilbert. Not at all!"

 _Well...maybe he isn't... Dammit, it's Antonio. Did I really think he of all people would act all passive aggressive? I need to stop jumping to conclusions!_ "Look I'm sorry. Don't look at me like that."

"Okay!" Antonio chirped and immediately smiled again.

The two began maneuvering through the hall in search of their lockers. "So what did you want to tell me?" Gilbert asked. "It must be awesome, since you insisted on grabbing me like that."

Antonio laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "Oh. Sorry about that. I just saw you talking to Lovino and it interested me."

"Uh huh." _So that's what it is. I should have figured._

"I didn't know you two talked. Are you close or something? I- I'm sorry I just-"

"Toni," Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Calm down. You know I'm not the kind of douche who'd take the guy you're clearly obsessed with. I'm much more awesome than that."

Antonio nodded with an embarrassed look on his face, forcing himself to smile. "Sí, I know. I'm sorry. A-and I'm not obsessed."

"You're totally obsessed. Seriously, I can't even talk to the guy for two minutes without you jumping me. Just relax, I'm much more into Matthew anyway. Lovino's not my type; I swear he's crazy."

The two reached their lockers and grabbed their supplies, while Gilbert noticed his friend looked more in thought than usual. Normally he'd just flit around and talk about the most random things with no rhyme or reason to it. Now he was just standing there holding his backpack and staring into space with an oddly placed frown. Gilbert sighed and rustled his wild brown hair. "Smile bro. You're getting that Italian all to yourself today. That's something awesome to look forward to."

And just like that a wide dopey grin spread across Antonio's face- making him look like one of those lovesick cartoon characters. "You're right. Gracias Gilbert!"

"Ja, no problem." He smiled as the other waved and disappeared down the hall, shaking his head and hitching his backpack up his shoulder while he began to walk in the opposite direction. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, for he was sure he felt it buzzing when he was talking to Antonio, and clicked the screen on. He nearly dropped it. "How on earth did he-?"

 **New Message From Badass Italian:**

Don't fucking lose that key bastard.

Gilbert raised his eyebrows in shock but changed the contact name before he responded.

 **Sent:**

How did you get my number?

 **Sent:**

And how'd you get your number saved into my phone?

 **New Message From Italian Brat:**

Now why the fuck would I tell a bastard like you?

The answer was expected, Gilbert knew the other wouldn't say anything. _I'll just have to keep an eye on my stuff when he's around,_ he thought as he pocketed his device.

He entered his classroom confident as always, scanning the area for the shy Canadian. "Hey Mattie!" He greeted loudly, sliding himself onto the other's desk.

Matthew jumped and blinked up at him with a red face. "Oh. H-hi Gilbert…" He said in a soft voice.

"So I was wondering-" an awesome idea hit him, and his smirk grew "-I have something to do later after school, but if you're up for it we could hang out when I'm done? It'd be so awesome!" _Without Arthur and Lovino this should be easy, right?_ He asked himself. _Matthew can't really say no._

"I...uh...I'm not sure," he stuttered, glancing down at his desk.

"Mattie." He looked up and blushed harder. "Say yes," Gilbert pressed. "You won't regret it."

Matthew stared at him for a few seconds, and nodded hesitantly. "O-okay," he whispered, a small smile on his face.

* * *

 ** _Just a question...does anyone actually read the A/N?_**

 ** _Anywho! Thank you so much for reading my humble little story, I thought it would be a cool idea to throw in a BTT-centered chapter, so let me know what you thought of it! Who knows? I might add more in the future..._**

 ** _Stay awesome!_**

 ** _altera vita mea_**

 _ **PS- Reviews make the world go round.**_


	6. Chapter 5

_Chapter five_

There was a mug from the café sitting on the desk- on Arthur's desk to be exact. He knew for a fact it wasn't his, he hadn't gone there in days. Since there was only one other person living in the room, Arthur had his suspicions set on Antonio. _The wanker knows I hate it when he leaves his things all over the bloody room!_ He thought in annoyance, casting a glare to the closed bathroom door. He knew his sloppy roommate was in there; he could hear the shower water running.

Arthur huffed as he dumped his books onto his desk and picked up the still warm mug, scowling at it in distaste. Never did the thought occur to him that maybe his roommate had given him a drink to be nice, why would he think of it? If Antonio was offering him a drink it was probably poisoned or something- people who smiled that much couldn't be trusted; God alone knew what crazy ideas were floating around their minds. Besides, Antonio wouldn't do anything nice for him, he was the one who had gotten tomato stains on his favorite shirt, no matter how innocent he acted about it! Arthur knew it was him, he couldn't remember what he had been wearing the day Lovino made pasta anyway…

 _Maybe I should just dump the mug onto the git's bed._ Arthur entertained the thought for a moment; Antonio wouldn't even notice until he tried to slip into bed later that night, after the liquid got cold and miserable, after the laundry room closed. _That would teach him not to leave his trash on my side of the room!_

Arthur's plots of revenge were interrupted when his fingers brushed against the small sticky note that had been attached to the mug, causing him to remove it and hold up the yellowing paper for examination.

 _Earl Grey Tea,_ it read in flowing cursive that was nothing like Antonio's chicken scratch handwriting. _Pour un petit mouton noir._

Arthur had taken a few years of French, He knew what it meant: For a little black sheep. His eyebrows twitched as he crumbled the note in his hand and tossed it somewhere on the Spaniard's side of the room. This was far worse than if Antonio had merely left his belongings on his desk! He had allowed that Frog into his room! After he had clearly said no about it!

"Antonio you bloody wanker!" Arthur marched over to the bathroom door and pounded on it with his free hand. "Open up right now!"

The door opened after the fifth knock, revealing an irritated Antonio clad in nothing but a blue towel around his waist. "What?"

"For heaven's sake cover up!" Arthur screeched. "Don't you have any decency?"

Antonio rolled his eyes and pushed past the Brit, running a hand through his wet hair. "I think you're the one who needs to be decent, you were trying to break down the down while I was showering. Besides-" He grinned and dropped the towel on the floor. "-I'm wearing boxers."

"What is wrong with you?" Arthur shielded his eyes and stuck the offending mug into the air. "And what is this?"

"It looks like a mug."

"Yes, you idiot! It's a mug! My question is why the hell did you let that French Frog in here?"

Antonio rolled his eyes and began searching through the closet for clothes to wear; why he couldn't be a normal person and take the clothes to the bathroom so he wouldn't be standing around half naked was beyond the Brit's comprehension. _Actually, he's probably doing it to spite me._ The thought made him livid.

"Sí, I did let Francis in," the Spaniard stated, pulling a shirt out to inspect it before putting it back and continuing his search. "Why do you have a problem with it? It's not like he's still here, and he only came in to give you something. He was being nice! And honestly, I don't know why he's even trying; you're impossible!"

"You're one to talk!" Arthur scoffed. "You are just as bad as Francis, always following Lovino around like some lost dog when he clearly wants nothing to do with you. Your entire trio disgusts me! You're so egotistical and bent on getting whoever you please. It's like you people don't even care, as long as you get the privilege of running your greedy hands all over the other's- hey! Are you even listening to me!"

Antonio had appeared to be completely ignoring his rant and was instead wiggling into a pair of jeans, murmuring something to himself in his native language, smiling as if Arthur wasn't even there.

"Hello!"

The Spaniard finished buttoning his pants and glanced at him. "Huh? Oh, you're still talking? Sorry, I zoned out after you mentioned Lovino- I have to get ready. I don't want to keep him waiting you know."

"Sure, whatever you bloody-" Arthur paused. "Keep him waiting for what?"

Antonio's lips twisted into a grin, his eyes lighting up triumphantly. "He didn't tell you? I'm tutoring him tres veces por semana starting today. I'll tell him you said hello."

Arthur growled, tightening his grip on the cup as an idea came to him. He quickly turned the mug over and dumped most of its contents onto the Spaniard's bed, ignoring the horrified noise the other made. He then splashed the remains in his face and tossed the mug onto the ground. "Good luck getting there on time, you git!" He hissed as he spun on his heel and marched out of the room. It was probably a good idea, for Antonio was suddenly shouting something in Spanish that sounded like an awful lot of curses.

Arthur had only taken a few steps in the desired direction of as far away from his angry roommate as possible when he suddenly slammed into someone loitering around the hall. And he honestly wasn't surprised as to who it was. "Frog! What the hell are you doing standing outside my room?"

The blonde shrugged and nodded toward the closed door. "I heard you two arguing and thought I'd stay in case things got out of hand. Arthur, what did you do? I haven't heard him sound this angry since...well it's been a while..."

"What did I do?!" Arthur sputtered, pushing Francis away from him. "As if everything is my fault! If anything this is your fault, wanker! You were the one who insisted that the two of us would get along fine once he got sober, and now it's too late to change my room because I listened to you! I must have been possessed, because why the fuck did I listen to a word that came out of your froggy mouth!"

"Now now," Francis chided in a mothering manner, speaking in a fake British accent that grated on the ears. "Is that any way for a gentleman to talk?"

"You wouldn't know if it was," Arthur muttered as he crossed his arms. "And that accent was awful."

Francis merely ignored him, glancing at the closed door anxiously. "I don't think it's anyone's fault in particular. The two of you are just so different you rub each other the wrong way. But it may be best to leave him be until he calms down, Antoine doesn't get angry often, but when he does-"

"Now why should I listen to you?"

Worried blue eyes glanced at him imploringly. "Because I know Antonio. When he finally snaps he is very likely to get violent. He's given Gilbert a bloody nose before."

Arthur blinked in surprise. _That was unexpected. I had intended to anger him, but not like that! Will I be safe sleeping there tonight? Maybe Lovino and Matthew would allow me to spend a night in their room?_ Gentle hands suddenly landed on his shoulders and begun to steer him down the hall. "Hey!"

"You'll be fine, once he calms down he'll be back to normal. I promise."

"I've heard that before. Now get your hands off me! Where do you think you're taking me?!"

Francis chuckled behind him and squeezed his shoulders. "Well," he started. "I was thinking about taking you to my room."

Arthur jerked himself out of the other's grasp, his fingers itching to slap him across the face. "You bloody pervert!"

"Me? You're the one who thought it like that!" Francis gasped mockingly and fingered a long strand of hair. "I assure you I meant nothing of the sort!"

"Really now? Why do I get the feeling that you're lying?"

"Arthur dear, even if I did want to bring you there for romantic reasons- which I wouldn't, the very thought is repulsive- I can't."

The Brit's green eyes narrowed at the taunting man. "If anyone's repulsive it's you. I bet you have warts, Frog."

"You wouldn't know if you didn't look," Francis smiled. "But anyway, I can't because I have company. And we're leaving him alone- so come on!"

"Why the hell would I want to go to your brothel of a room?" Arthur argued, slapping the hands that were attempting to grasp his shoulders again.

Francis huffed as he spun him around and lightly pushed him down the hall. "Because you're going to need a place to stay until Antonio leaves, oui? Believe it or not I'm trying to help you." The two finally reached the door and Francis grabbed his key. "Bienvenue chez moi!" He sang as he swung open the door. "Mathieu, forgive me for taking so long! But I've brought a friend!"

 _Wait...Mathieu..?_ Arthur stepped into the room and blinked in shock. There, seated at one of the desks sat Matthew, absently nibbling something from a small plate. He glanced up with wide eyes when he recognized Arthur, swallowing a bite. "H-hello Arthur."

"Francis," the Brit growled. "Why do you have Matthew in here?!"

"Well-"

"Actually, shut up!" Arthur turned to the quiet Canadian in concern. "This wanker hasn't touched you at all, has he?"

Matthew shook his head quickly. "What? N-no it's nothing like that Arthur! I just needed to talk to Francis and h-he made me some food. And um... I think I need to go now. Can I wash your plate and bring it back later?"

Francis waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it Mathieu. It was a pleasure."

Matthew stood up and set the plate down. "Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow Arthur." And just like that, he was gone.

"What. The hell. Was that."

Francis smiled. "What? Do you have a hard time believing that the two of us get along well?"

"I'll tell you what I don't have a hard time believing!" Arthur stated. "I don't have a hard time believing that you're molesting him and the poor lad is too terrified to do anything about it! This is exactly why I told him and Lovino to stay away from you freaks! And no one ever listens to me!"

"Arthur!" Francis frowned, planting his hands on his hips. "Enough! How many times do I have to tell you that my friends and I are not like that! No, we do not only think about sex and we are very capable of having friendly relationships with people! I do not touch if I know for certain they will not like it- at least not seriously! I wouldn't touch someone in a committed relationship because chances are they wouldn't enjoy the love I have and would rat me out to their significant other, and I would end up with a broken nose. I simply couldn't live with myself if my nose was crooked! But if I am flirting with someone and they are flirting back, who am I to deny them of amour and passion, hm? That would be terribly selfish of me. The only exception is Antonio, and he doesn't really count. We all have friends we mess around with, don't we?"

He paused and made a face. "Well, you obviously don't since you can't have friends without ordering them around all the time. Maybe that's why Matthew never said anything about our friendship, or why Lovino didn't breathe a word about tutoring with Antonio. You honestly have no idea how to make friends."

Arthur glared at him evenly, turning up his nose in disgust. "I didn't bloody come here to be insulted by a sex maniac of a Frog. I'm leaving."

* * *

When Gilbert had suggested hanging out after school, Matthew had thought he meant taking a walk somewhere on campus, cooking pancakes in the kitchen again or maybe even watching a movie. So he hadn't bothered to tell Arthur or Lovino because unlike his friends, he still didn't really believe that Gilbert- or Francis and Antonio- were bad people. Besides, he did not want to unleash the fury of an Italian or English demon. It wasn't like he and Gilbert were going to do anything dangerous.

"Um... H-how will I know if I see your brother or Feliciano?" He stuttered, glancing around the abandoned hall anxiously while the other fished a key out of his pocket and shoved it into the door.

"Easy; Feli is a nicer, less psychotic Lovino, they look almost exactly alike. West is tall and buff and blonde and less awesome than me. You couldn't miss them!" With that, the Prussian opened the door and slipped inside. "Let's see what goodies we find here, Kesesese!"

Matthew released a deep breath and leaned closer to the door, watching as Gilbert helped himself into the drawers and checked under the beds. "Gilbert," he whispered. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Of course!" The albino retorted confidently. "Snooping is always a good idea. But Mattie, you've gotta keep an eye out. We don't want to get caught."

Get caught. The idea was terrifying. Matthew rested his head against the wall and rubbed at his temples. He had never gotten into real trouble before, and he had certainly never done anything illegal like trespassing. Well, technically Gilbert was doing the trespassing, but he was his accomplice! If they were to get caught he'd get in just as much trouble- maybe more. He wasn't the one who was related to the people living in the room. But Gilbert didn't seem worried, in fact the Canadian could hear him humming to himself from inside. Was it even possible for him to worry? It didn't seem like it.

"Huh. Weird," he said after a few minutes. "No signs of any condoms or lube in the usual places; there's nothing in the drawers, under cushions, or in the closet...maybe Lovino was right?"

Matthew let out a sigh of relief. "Good. That means we can leave, right?" He wasn't exactly sure why they were even looking for that sort of thing, even if it was concerning Gilbert's brother. Matthew had no idea if Alfred was sexually active, and he didn't want to find out! The only way he would know is if his brother suddenly screamed "dude! Guess who I banged!" Since he hadn't done that...Matthew assumed it was because there was nothing to brag about. And he wasn't planning on digging for that sort of information.

Gilbert suddenly poked his silver head out of the doorway, causing Matthew to jump. "Not just yet," he said, flashing him an apologetic grin. "First I need to make sure there's nothing in here. You and I both know that if I miss something Lovino will have my head and some other body parts. And that wouldn't be good- I'm much more awesome in one piece." He glanced down the hall briefly before turning back to Matthew. "You're doing an awesome job!" He praised. "Just a few more minutes." Then he was gone again.

The Canadian slowly sunk against the wall and sat down, resting his chin in his hands. It was times like these when he really didn't feel guilty about hanging out with Francis and especially Gilbert against his friends' wishes. He had seen Arthur in Francis' room, sure he had been there first, but he was there because he and Francis actually got along pretty well, and because he desperately needed a pep talk before spending time with Gilbert. The Frenchman actually had some good advice if you ignored all his sexual comments. Besides, the Brit was the one who had come up with the whole 'stay away from them' plan. Not to mention Lovino was somehow close enough to Gilbert to have the proud Prussian doing all sorts of crap for him. Matthew also had a sneaking suspicion that the Italian was meeting up with Antonio today, he was never that secretive when leaving the room. All while he was told by both of them to have nothing to do with the other trio.

Matthew checked the hall, relieved when the only person he saw was some brunette who didn't seem to notice the break in happening a few doors down. He wasn't sure why, but he was...a little upset with the two of them- mostly with Lovino actually. Why? Matthew rubbed at his temples again. It couldn't be because Gilbert seemed to be talking about him a lot, he was just complaining about him...Besides, he had decided to take Matthew along with him, not Lovino. That should count for something, shouldn't it? And it wasn't like Matthew liked him or anything...he didn't right? Actually, he hadn't really thought about it.

"Aha! What do we have here?"

Matthew blinked and leaned towards the doorway again. "Did you find something?" Gilbert was standing over a neatly organized desk, looking over some magazines. They sure didn't look like juicy information.

"No way..." Gilbert's face broke into a huge smirk and he waved the books around excitedly. "Do you know what this means?!"

Matthew cocked his head to the side. "Uh...does it have anything to do with why we're actually here..?"

Gilbert stopped dancing around the room for half a second and pondered the question. "Kind of?" He shrugged. "But it's still awesome! Mattie, I found the evidence I need to prove that West isn't as big of a prude as I thought. I found his porn stash! Look!"

Matthew quickly whirled back around and covered his face for good measure. "Gil! I don't want to see that!" He hissed, feeling his face flush behind his hands.

Thankfully, Gilbert didn't try to force him. "Oh I get it. Sorry. It's just kinda funny, you know? They grow up too fast." He snickered to himself. "Oh, you know what would be hilarious? If sweet, innocent Feliciano ran across these, mein Gott he'd be scared forever! And West would be so embarrassed he'd never want to see the light of day again!"

As he laughed, Matthew shyly peaked his head out of his hands and glanced at him, a soft smile sneaking onto his face. Gilbert was truly ridiculous, but in a fun way. He was crazy, yet he knew how to make it laughable. Maybe that's why Matthew was drawn to him; he admired his spirit, his ability to live his life to the fullest. The Canadian glanced down the hall again; no one was coming.

"Hey Gilbert?"

"Ja?"

Matthew blushed again. "Could I...maybe help you look around for a little bit? I don't think they'll be back for a while."

Gilbert absolutely beamed as he put Ludwig's stash back into its hiding place. "Really? You want to?" Matthew nodded. "Wow! How awesome! Come in!"

Matthew stood up, checked the hall one more time, and snuck inside. The dorm room was set up similar to his own, and he couldn't help but smile as he recognized the fact that two distinct personalities lived in that room. One side of the room was spotlessly clean, books were organized, and the bed didn't have the slightest wrinkle. The other side looked like a bomb had exploded, half the sheets were hanging off the bed, papers and books were stacked in cluttered heaps on the desk, a backpack was spilling its contents all over the floor. "Well, they seem very different," he murmured as he walked over to Feliciano's desk and started hesitantly poking through things. He knew it must be the younger Vargas' side of the room, for Lovino was the same way. It had taken the guy two weeks to unpack his belongings.

Gilbert nodded. "They say opposites attract," he said with a smirk. "And speaking of which, what awesome power convinced you to come inside Mattie?"

"Oh...n-nothing really...it was just a little boring in the hall…" His face turned bright red as he stuttered and turned back to the desk. He couldn't tell him that his daring personality was actually inspiring and made him want to seek out fun- that would make it sound like he liked him. He still hadn't thought about it.

Gilbert seemed to accept his answer, for he merely smirked and continued searching through his brother's desk. Matthew released a deep breath and continued prodding around himself, quirking an eyebrow in curiosity when his fingers brushed against a small book in the bottom of a stack. "Huh?" He carefully pulled it out, running his hands along the book's leather cover and tracing the golden 'Feliciano Vargas' written in the bottom right corner.

"Did you find something?" Gilbert asked, peering over his shoulder.

Matthew held it up to him. "I think it might be his diary…"

The albino's red eyes flashed with excitement. "Ha ha! You've found the jackpot!" He cheered, his fingers wiggling as he gently took the book and examined it. "This will tell us for sure if anything is going on between those two!"

Matthew frowned softly. "Gilbert...isn't that a bit...private?"

"Nah, diaries are meant to be read, they're an awesome story, written by you, for you and for any other awesome and nosy person!" Matthew made a slight face. "Okay, I promise I'll only read what's necessary for our mission. Sound fair?"

"I guess…" Matthew relented.

"Gut."

Gilbert flipped open the diary and turned to a page somewhere near the middle, and then his triumphant face fell. "It's all in Italian." He turned the book back to the Canadian, who ran his amethyst eyes over the page. Sure enough, he couldn't read a word.

"Maybe it's because he doesn't want 'awesome and nosy' people to read it?" He asked with a raise of an eyebrow.

Gilbert frowned and turned the book back to himself. "Look! It says 'Ludwig' right there! We are so close Mattie! If only we could speak Italian!" He suddenly paused, his smirk returning back to his face as he glanced back at Matthew. "Wait a minute. We do! We have a secret weapon of exploding anger and mass destruction!"

"Uh...Do you mean Lovino?"

"Yes!" Gilbert placed the diary on the desk and fished his phone out of his pocket, snapping a picture of the page. "All we have to do is send it to him and have him decode it! Aren't we awesome?"

"Sure…" While Gilbert anxiously waited for a response, Matthew checked down the hall- still no sign of anyone.

Just then there was a chime of a phone, and Gilbert grinned. "Let's see…" Once again, his face fell in disappointment. "He says it's just a bunch of crap about their study group thing…" He looked so crestfallen, a defeated frown resting on his face. "Maybe there isn't anything…"

Matthew furrowed his brow and walked back to the Prussian, hating to see him without his usual upbeat attitude. "Here, let me see if I can find anything," he whispered, reaching over Gilbert's arm in order to turn a few pages. He scanned them carefully, keeping his eye out for Ludwig's name scribbled down in the midst of unreadable writing. "What about that?" He asked, pointing at a page. "There's his name, and it all looks really suspicious, because here-" he moved his finger higher on the page and pointed to the word 'amore.' "-is the Italian word for love. It's close to the French word amour."

Gilbert hummed, his smirk slowly returning back to his face. "Oh you're right! Thanks Mattie!" He reached over and ruffled his blond hair. "I'll send this last one to Lovino and then we'll get out of here, okay? Maybe get some food?"

Matthew smiled. "Sure, I'd like that."

"Awesome."

Matthew stepped back and pushed his glasses up his nose. As crazy as the whole scheme was, he was actually enjoying himself, and it sure beat sitting around his room doing nothing. Suddenly, his ears perked as he heard a grumbling voice coming up the hall, too soft for Gilbert to notice. Matthew crept toward the door and stuck his head out, his pupils dilating as he matched the tall, broad-shouldered man approaching with the description of Ludwig. He quickly shut the door, his heart pounding as he whirled around again.

"Gil!" he hissed. "Your brother's coming!"

Gilbert snapped up, closing the diary and tossing it back on Feliciano's desk as he ran over to the closet and threw the doors open. "We'll hide here! I'm sure he'll leave soon!"

Matthew nodded and slipped past him into the closet, quickly followed by the albino as he closed the doors. It was...awkward...and cramped… Matthew was pressed flat against the wall with no space to move- there were too many clothes stuffed in. Gilbert was so close his face was nearly pressed into the other's chest, he could feel the Prussian's ragged breath on his ear, he could catch a whiff of his nice-smelling cologne, and if Gilbert hadn't been leaning his weight on the arms against the wall on either side of Matthew's head there wouldn't be that extra half a centimeter of space between their two bodies. He released a shuddering sigh and hid his red face in the other's shoulder. This was so embarrassing!

"They need to make these closets bigger, huh?" Gilbert whispered into his ear. Matthew could only nod mutely. The door to the dorm opened with a creak, and he stiffened, barely daring to breath for fear that his terrified huffing would draw attention to their hiding place. Gilbert noticed and freed one of his hands in order to comb it through his hair in a comfortingly sweet gesture. Matthew felt his body relax slightly under his touch.

"Gott Feliciano," he could hear a deep voice grumble outside. "That boy is so airheaded, first he loses his key and then he forgets to bring his books to a study group. What did he think we were going to do there?"

"Oh please West," Gilbert breathed, rolling his eyes. "We all know you like him." Matthew clutched at his sweater, silently begging him to be quiet. Gilbert submitted with a playful wink and pressed his index finger against his lips.

There was some shuffling outside, and then, "Here it is. I'm going to have to tell him to clean his things, it's such a mess in here." The shuffling started to fade as Ludwig headed out the door, and Matthew was finally relaxing when- Gilbert's phone went of. "Scheiße!" The owner hissed.

"Huh. Did he leave his phone in here too? Not surprised." The shuffling came right up to the closet door. Matthew was shaking so badly his knees knocked together. Gilbert somehow managed to turn himself around so that he was facing the door, blocking Matthew from sight as the door opened. "Bruder?! Why the hell are you in my closet?!"

"Hey West!" Gilbert smirked and waved. "Interesting porn magazines you've got!" Matthew had never been more thankful for being practically invisible.

* * *

Lovino didn't want that Tomato Bastard to think he was looking forward to their stupid tutoring session, because he wasn't. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to skip the whole thing, but that idiot would go whining to the teacher first chance he got. Damn that Antonio. The next best thing was to show up late, to let him freak out and think he wasn't coming. Then when he strolled into the café fifteen minutes later the stupid Spaniard would be completely beside himself. Ha, that would show him! But fate, being the total bitch that it is, apparently hated his guts.

Lovino wandered into the café, smirking smugly at the thought of Antonio sitting alone at a table, whining and crying about his absence. Maybe he'd regret his decision to tutor him, maybe he'd quit, and Lovino couldn't be blamed if that was the case. He glanced around the facility, his smirk slowly disappearing when he didn't see a head of wild brown curls at any of the tables, or a set of green eyes and a bright smile ordering his coffee. Antonio wasn't even there. Lovino gritted his teeth. That bastard! Had that been his plan the entire time, to force him to do something with him and never even showing up? If it was he was going to pay for-

"Lovino!"

His mental rant ended when he heard her voice, as he glanced up and immediately smiled at the girl wiggling herself out from behind the counter. "Ciao Emma," he greeted as she hugged him. "It's been too long."

The Belgian nodded and stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. "I know! You don't come to see me anymore!"

Lovino made a face and tapped her nose, smiling at the soft giggle she made. "Don't look at me like that, it makes me feel guilty. It's nothing against you Emma, lo prometto. I'm still trying to figure out this stupid school. It's so different than the one I used to attend in Italia."

"That does make sense," she relented with a grin. "It took me months to get used to the system here. You'll probably get it sooner though- you're so smart."

"Grazie, but I'd rather talk about more important things, like how beautiful you are." He had always been a sucker for gorgeous eyes, and Emma was no exception; her's were wide, playful and happy, colored bright green behind her lashes. They kind of reminded him of Antonio's.

The thought caused him to stop short, cursing at himself for coming up with something so fucking stupid! This was Emma he was thinking about, she was far more attractive than that Spanish idiot for obvious reasons! Besides, Lovino was straight- he was almost completely sure about it. That little voice in the back of his head that told him he might not be could suck his ass!

"Lovino?"

He blinked back into reality when he felt a gentle squeeze on his arm and glanced back at the girl in confusion. "Sí?"

Emma's fair brows furrowed slightly in worry. "I was saying you look tired. Can I get you something?"

"Oh...black coffee per favore."

With one last squeeze to his arm she nodded and slipped back behind the counter to make his drink. "What's on your mind Lovino?" She asked, casting a knowing look at him over her shoulder. "You seem distracted."

He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair, a small smirk slipping back onto his face. "Do you count as a valid answer?"

"Je bent zo'n tease." Emma shook her head as she handed him his coffee. "No I don't."

Lovino dug out his wallet and paid, even though she tried to convince him that he didn't need to. "Well, my only other explanation is that I'm not as smart as you think. Spanish is a pain and I'm not doing so good."

"Really?" Emma gasped in disbelief. "But you speak Italian, and you seem to have a knack for language. You were really catching on to the Dutch I taught you!"

Lovino shrugged, curling his fingers around the warmth of the mug. "Spanish is confusing. It's too close to Italian and I get mixed up. So now I'm stuck with a tutor." His eyebrows furrowed as he frowned. "He's that one student from Spain."

"You mean Antonio?"

"Yeah, that's him- a real idiot."

Emma's face lit up excitedly as she smiled, resting her elbows on the counter. "Oh I know Toni; you're lucky! Is he great or what?"

"Or what," Lovino responded immediately with a raise of an eyebrow. "Emma?"

"Hmm?"

"You're not...you don't have a thing for the bas- idiot, do you?" He cringed slightly when the awkward question left his lips, but dammit he had to find out! She had just gotten so fucking happy when he had mentioned the Tomato Bastard, and he wanted to be sure. For some invalid reason, girls tended to think that Antonio had some kind of appeal to him. Which was completely ridiculous! It wasn't like the Spaniard was good looking or anything, dammit.

Emma giggled and sent him a catlike grin. "If I did, would you be jealous of me or of him?"

"Emma!" Lovino nearly shrieked- in the most manly way possible- and slapped a hand over his own mouth, feeling his cheeks flame up at the insinuation. "Dammit, that's not funny!" He almost never swore in front of a woman, but the question completely caught him off guard! He sent a reprimanding glare at the girl, but she was too busy laughing into her hand to notice it.

"I was just kidding!" She insisted, reaching over the counter to lightly pinch the Italian's cheek. "You get flustered so easily, it's fun to tease you!"

Lovino gently pushed her hand away with a slight pout. "No, you are not allowed to touch my cheek right now. I'm mad at you."

"Aw! But it was a joke! I'm sorry!"

"I don't even know what to say to you right now."

Emma smiled. "If it makes you feel any better, there really isn't anything going on between me and Antonio. We're just friends- we have been since freshman year. He did try to ask me out a few times but my brother didn't approve of him." She rolled her eyes. "So we decided to just stay friends. And we were better off."

Lovino relaxed slightly as he took a sip of his coffee, trying to distract himself from the lingering blush on his face. It did make him feel a little better, but still. "That was the worst question I've ever been asked." It bothered him, the fact that it had made him so embarrassed when the answer should have obviously been he'd be fucking jealous of Antonio. In fact, he should have had the urge to hunt down that bastard and eliminate the competition. Instead he had only felt flustered and confused; asking himself why the question was even being asked, what Emma was expecting his answer to be, how he was supposed to answer. It was stupid!

She finally stopped smiling a little, her face growing more concerned as she blinked up at him. "I'm sorry Lovino! I didn't mean it! Sometimes I ask the most random questions without even thinking about it. Here I'll make it up to you!" She quickly leaned over the counter and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Lovino's heart fluttered a little as he smiled, opening his mouth to reply when-

"Toni!" Emma suddenly shrieked and dashed out from behind the counter to greet the Spaniard who had just walked in through the door. Antonio immediately smiled, flashing white against his tan skin. "Emma! Hola!" The two of them hugged- for too fucking long in Lovino's opinion- and suddenly started talking nonsense in a rapid fire speech no one could understand. Dammit, they were really close. Lovino's eyelid twitched.

"Wait, come here!" Emma grabbed the bastard's shirt and pulled him closer. "You smell like tea...Earl Grey?"

Antonio ran a hand through his hair. "Ah, sí. It wasn't really my choice."

Lovino cleared his throat to get their attention, causing two pairs of green eyes to turn to him. "Oh, hi Lovi!" The Spaniard said happily, waving at him with a large smile on his face while Emma giggled and told Antonio she'd get him his usual and slipped back behind the counter. "I didn't even see you there," he continued, taking a few steps closer to the Italian. "You were being so quiet!"

Lovino grunted in response, scowling at his mug sourly. Just looking at the Tomato Bastard was enough to ruin his mood, and he had actually been feeling pretty happy for two seconds- fucking Antonio!

"Are you mad at me because I'm late?" He asked worriedly. "Because if you are I'm so sorry! I was planning on getting here earlier, but then something came up and I had to take care of it before I got here and now I'm hoping no one steals my laundry because that would really suck and-"

"Dammit bastard!" Lovino hissed, trying to keep his voice low. "I don't give a flying fuck if you're late! As a matter of fact, to show you how much I don't care I showed up late too! Just shut up!"

Antonio closed his mouth immediately and glanced at the floor. "Lo siento," he murmured.

After Emma handed the Spaniard some sort of sugar-infested drink, the two of them sat down at a table in the corner, Antonio with a small smile on his face and Lovino feeling more and more irritated. Damn that bastard pissed him off, putting him into a bad mood with his smiles and his stupidity! He glared at the Spaniard from across the table, who didn't even notice the evil looks he was receiving as he took a sip of his cavity-inducing drink, leaving a bit of whipped cream on his lower lip, which he quickly licked off.

Lovino twitched, shaking his head in annoyance. "So why the fuck do you smell like tea, bastard?" He grumbled, trying to distract himself as he opened his backpack.

"Oh right." Antonio made a slight face. "It was your friend Arthur actually."

Lovino glanced up, slamming his Spanish book on the table. "You mean he dumped tea on you? Ha! I bet you fucking deserved it!"

"That's not nice Lovi!"

"Since when am I nice to bastards like you? Damn, I wish I had seen that!"

Antonio took another sip from his mug. "So mean...why are you so much nicer to Emma?"

"Hm, I wonder? Maybe because she's sweet, she's not annoying, she's beautiful, she's a girl!"

Antonio flinched, his eyes cast down at the table as he smiled weakly. "Oh. Should we start studying now?"

"About fucking time," was Lovino's answer.

The hour was going by quickly, much to his relief, and as much as he hated to admit it, Ms. Rivera had been right when she said Antonio was a good teacher. His methods were fairly simple and straightforward, and Lovino felt as though he was already learning a little more. Of course, this still wasn't enough to convince him to seek out the Spaniard's help willingly, he'd rather die.

The whole teaching situation was awkward too; Antonio hadn't brought his own book, so he was attempting to read off of Lovino's from the other side of the table. The Italian knew it would have been more comfortable for both of them if Antonio merely slid over next to him, but he didn't dare suggest something so fucked up. And Antonio never asked, he just smiled to himself as he tried to read upside down, his messy brown hair falling into his bright green eyes.

Lovino blinked and forced his eyes back to his paper. _Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me today? I must be getting sick._ That had to be the explanation for why he was suddenly wondering what the Spaniard's problem was, why it annoyed him that the idiot was even more spaced out than usual. Lovino glared at him, watching as Antonio glanced out the window for seemingly the millionth time, fingering the small crucifix he wore around his neck without any hint of a smile. It was weird.

 _Well damn,_ Lovino thought with a scowl. _If he doesn't want to be here either then we're fucking wasting both of our time._ He opened his mouth to make a harsh comment, but he was distracted by a chime from his phone. He eyed Antonio to see if he had noticed- he hadn't- and pulled the device out of his pocket with a grumble. It was from Gilbert, and it appeared to be a screenshot of a page from Feliciano's diary?! A smirk settled on the Italian's face as he scanned the page, maybe Potato #2 wasn't as big of an idiot as he thought.

 _'Dear diary,'_ it read in Italian. ' _Today Ludwig and I are going to meet up with some of our friends for a study group! I don't like studying all that much, it's so boring, but Luddy says that I might get something out of studying with others, and I trust him. I tried to get Lovino to come with us, but he yelled at me and told me he had better things to do. And when I asked him what those things were he got all frustrated and red and told me it was none of my business. Between you and me I think he's doing something with Antonio, he always blushes when he talks about him!'_

"I do not fucking blush!"

Fuck what he had thought before, Gilbert was still an idiot, he should have done the work himself, but the thought of sneaking into that Potato's room had been terrifying, that bastard could easily snap him in two if he wanted to! He was going to have to deal with Gilbert's stupidity.

"Yes you do blush."

Lovino jumped slightly and jerked his head up to stare at Antonio, who was suddenly looking at him again with a bright smile on his face. Apparently he had made that comment about not blushing out loud. "What the fuck bastard?!" He hissed, feeling his face heat up in spite of his best efforts to keep it in check. "No I do not!"

Antonio laughed a little. "You are right now. In fact you look just like a tomato!"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "That's fucking stupid. Now shut your ugly face for half a minute if that's even possible."

 **Sent:**

Fucking idiot! That's just a bunch of shit about their study group!

 **Sent:**

...but you're on the right track. If you find anything else send it to me bastard.

"Are you texting your brother?" Antonio suddenly asked- and no, he didn't last thirty seconds like he was supposed to.

Lovino clicked his tongue in annoyance. "That's none of your-" he suddenly narrowed his eyes. "How do you know I have a fucking brother?"

"Oh, I met him! He's so cute and sweet! You two are very different you know?"

Oh, if only looks could kill. Lovino's glare intensified as he growled, nearly snapping his pencil in half. "You don't fucking say." _Antonio too, fuck it happens every single time! Why would he even talk to me after he met the better brother? Dammit he's such a bastard!_

His phone went off again, and as he ran his eyes along the text his eyes grew wide as his stomach twisted uncomfortably. "Fuck!" He suddenly shouted, bolting out of his seat. "Gilbert was actually partially right!"

Antonio looked up in concern. "You were texting Gilbert? I mean, is something wrong? I could help-"

"No you can't, bastard!" Lovino demanded as he shoved his belongings into his backpack. "I'm leaving." He sped out of the café so fast he almost missed the hurt look that flashed across the Spaniard's face. He didn't have time to care.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Oh my gosh I am so very sorry about making you all wait an extra week for this chapter! This entire month has been super hectic for me and my family, and I guess it finally caught up to me...but this is the longest chapter so far, so that counts for something, right? Please don't hurt me!**_

 _ **I hope this chapter is alright...I personally feel like some things in Arthur and especially Lovino's scenes didn't turn out exactly how I envisioned them, but oh well...As long as you guys liked it right?**_

 _ **I hope to have the next chapter up ON TIME! *crosses fingers* Thank you all so much for all your support!**_

 _ **altera vita mea**_


	7. Chapter 6

_Chapter six_  
 _This stupid ass school and all its ridiculous rules can suck my Italian balls,_ Lovino thought determinedly, gently closing his door behind him as he crept down the hall. It was some time after 7:45, which meant it was study time apparently, and that meant as a fucking sophomore he was supposed to be stuck inside his room for the rest of the night. Well fuck that, he had a little prick of a brother to yell at. Seriously, what the hell was going on? Had Feliciano finally killed the remains of his brain cells by boiling them with his last batch of spaghetti? He couldn't possibly be in...in love with that stupid Potato Bastard he called a roommate! No he must be confused, when the fuck wasn't he? He was the one who had sworn this school would be a nice experience after all.

The whole situation pissed him off; his stupid little brother could have had a collection of better, more appealing choices if he had wanted, because now that he was finally getting older he seemed to always have admirers floating around nearby. Why couldn't he had chosen one of them; not one of the creepy bastards from this school, but one of Italy's lovely people? "Listen well, i miei ragazzi, there are many beauties in this world, but very few can compare to the wondrous sights that can be found among our women- and our men," their grandfather had told them with a wink. And for once, Lovino agreed with the crazy old man. Who could deny that cute little blonde who cheerfully worked part time in the flower shop, or the doe eyed beauty who had grown in all the right places? What about the guy Feli had loved to paint with, or the teenaged waiter at their favorite restaurant, the one who always snuck them free food and offered playful winks to the younger Vargas boy. Lovino approved of them, for they were all highly qualified: their skin had been lovingly kissed by the Mediterranean Sun, they had been blessed with the Italian tongue, they were expressive and loved to use hand gestures to convey their meaning, they cherished the art of a peaceful siesta, and they understood the necessity of cooking tomatoes in as many dishes as possible. The Potato Bastard had no appeal whatsoever and hell, he only seemed to have two emotions: 'I have a stick in my ass' and 'I have two sticks up my ass and now I'm pissed.' Feliciano was a blind fool if he thought he needed that in his life, and apparently he needed his older brother to show it to him. He'd better fucking believe that few could surpass the sexiness found in their home country, and that pale German Potato wasn't anywhere near it! In fact, only a small handful of the girls- and even less of the guys- in World Academy actually could compete with Italian beauty in Lovino's opinion(and his opinion was fact). Emma was one of those exceptions, he had readily decided. Could he even think of a male who could change his mind? He sure as hell could not, proof that Feliciano should just stick to Italians. Dammit, he obviously wasn't trying to push out wandering thoughts of one junior in particular; one with a natural even tan to his skin, messy brown curls, fucking dancing green eyes, and a bright smile plastered to his face. And no, the reason why he wasn't pushing those thoughts out wasn't because he enjoyed them- it was because they didn't fucking exist to begin with!

 _Focus!_ He growled softly and dropped his fist onto his head to clear his muddled mind. _I have to figure out what the fuck I'm supposed to do with my brother after I get to his room. I can't chew him out with that bastard in the room! I'll have to...dammit...I'll bring him to the kitchen and hope it won't be locked!_

With the plan finalized the Italian continued his silent trek down the halls, smirking when he managed to reach Feliciano's door without getting caught. Glancing around, he lifted a fist to the door and knocked as gently as he possibly could, pressing an ear against the wood in order to hear inside.

"Ve~! I think someone's at the door!" That was Feliciano, if the 've' and random squealing didn't give it away.

"Why would someone be at the door at this time?" Came the German's annoyingly gruff voice. "It's Study Time. I swear if Gilbert's back..."

"I'll check it!"

"Nein! You're supposed to be cleaning off your desk so you can actually study there for once."

"Hehe, but I'm already at door Luddy!"

Lovino was too busy scowling at the overly flirty tone of his brother's voice and the fact that the Potato Bastard wasn't even noticing what was right in front of his ugly face, that he didn't pull away from the door. The second Feliciano opened it he fell right into their room with a thud. "Ow! Fucking door!" He hissed as quietly as he could muster, slowly standing up as he rubbed his elbow and dusted off his clothes.

"Fratello?" Feli was staring at him like he had just discovered a living unicorn, his amber eyes as wide as dinner plates and his mouth open wide enough to catch fucking flies with it. Even the bastard sitting at his desk was looking at him strange, lifting his glasses from his face. "Aren't you supposed to be in your room?"

"Fuck that shit," he said indignantly. "And I'm not here to waste time talking to some potato loving bastard like you, dammit, so shut the hell up!" He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at his brother. "Abbiamo bisogno di parlare."

Feli gnawed on his bottom lip nervously. "In questo momento?"

"Sí."

"Qui?"

"No idiota!" Lovino scoffed and narrowed his eyes at Ludwig. "There are witnesses."

Feliciano blinked and cast a look to the German over his shoulder. "But-"

"Come on!" The elder Italian huffed as he grabbed the other by the wrist and dragged him out of the room. "If you don't want to get caught you better keep your fucking loud voice down." He could hear his brother whimpering softly, but after his grip tightened on the brat's wrist he shut up. Fortunately for Lovino, the Potato Bastard was too awkward to actually say anything and simply sat there with a shocked look on his face as the two disappeared. That was good, because if he had attempted to interfere Lovino would have killed him for sure.

The two brothers managed to sneak in the kitchen, and by that time he could feel Feli shaking. "F-fratello?" He stammered after they slipped into the empty room, wringing his hands together as the elder locked the door. "Is s-something wrong?" Dio, the little baby was already tearing up, his lower lip trembling pitifully.

Lovino crossed his arms and frowned. "Would you fucking calm down? I haven't even started yelling yet!"

"B-but I know you're going to!" Feliciano wailed. "And waiting for it is almost as scary as when you actual start yelling! I don't know what I did Lovino, but I'm sorry!"

Well wasn't that stupid? "How the hell can you be sorry when you don't even know why, idiot?" Lovino tsked as he flicked his brother on the forehead. "You are sorry dammit! You are sorry and pathetic and fucking stupid! Do you know why?" Feliciano looked completely terrified as he took a few shaky steps back until he hit a counter, shaking his head fearfully. "Dear fucking gay-ass diary," Lovino began sarcastically, clapping his hands together. "I have a secret, so be a nice fucking book and don't tell anyone, okay? I think I might be falling in love with a complete bastard named Ludwig Beilschmidt!"

The small gasp let him know he had struck a nerve like he had been hoping to do. "H-how do you know about that?" Feliciano asked, his face sheet white.

"What do you think? I have friends in low places."

"Is that why Gilbert was sneaking around earlier? To go through my things for you?"

"Wow, you actually have something inside that head of yours besides pasta and the Potato Bastard."

The younger's eyes gleamed with tears, but even so they suddenly grew cold. "Lovino! That is personal!"

"I'm your brother for fuck's sake!" Hazel eyes flashed angrily. "You were supposed to tell me anyway! The bastard is your roommate! Who knows what kind of kinky shit he could have been forcing you into and no one would have known! Believe it or not I'm trying to fucking take care of you."

Feliciano huffed. "Maybe I don't want your help!" He stated. "If this is what you call looking out for me than I don't want it!"

"Too fucking bad! You're obviously not mature enough to take care of your own damn self- look at the bastard you're 'in love with!' He's a cold little fucker who probably doesn't even know the basics of love, he's pretty damn stupid too, the kraut is probably on drugs or some shit like that- kids our age are not supposed to look like fucking bodybuilders!"

"Lovino stop!" Feliciano's chest heaved as he curled his hands into small fists at his sides. "How could you say things like that? You don't even know Ludwig! If you did you would know how nice he is to me, that he reminds me of things I forget, and he always helps me with my homework. Sure, he is a little gruff but he really is sweet when you get to know him, and I love him for that! But of course, you won't get to know him because you're too hateful and mean!" He sniffled and dragged the back of his hand across his face.

"Besides," he added in a slightly calmer voice. "I'm not the only one keeping secrets, now am I fratello?"

Lovino blinked in confusion, his expression losing its former malice. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about." He didn't have any secrets, none that his brother would be interested in knowing anyway…

"What about you and Antonio?"

"Che?!" His jaw dropped in shock, while his cheeks heated up in...disgust dammit! "What the fuck makes you think that-?! There's nothing going on between the bastard and I! Why would you think that there was?!"

"Because I know you," Feli looked pretty damn proud of himself, as if it took a genius to figure his answer out. "Because I've heard the way you talk about him."

"With annoyance?"

"Also, Luddy is in Spanish with you guys. He's seen the way you two look at each other too."

"With fucking loathing!"

"That's not what Ludwig says," Feliciano continued, smiling triumphantly. "Ve~ He says you two seem really close!"

"Well fuck what your Potato Bastard says!" Lovino roared. "He needs to wear his ugly ass glasses more often because his eyes are fucked up! I hope you have fun sucking face with him because I'm leaving! Buonanotte stupido!" He stomped over to the door and yanked it open, nearly colliding with Mr. Stanton, the Residence Hall Director, who was standing outside the door. Fuck…

"Ah, I was certain I heard voices in here- distinctly Italian voices," the man began with a raise of his brow. "If I'm not mistaken you two are Lovino and Feliciano Vargas? You two do realize it is past your curfew?" By some miracle, the two brothers managed to convince the man that there was a bit of family issues going on that they simply had to discuss before the next day. Lovino apologized and Feli teared up again and the Director relented with a soft sigh. "Next time an issue comes up, talk to me first," he said. "I can't have you breaking curfew all the time you know."

Mr. Stanton finally offered to walk Feli back to his room, leaving Lovino to angrily march back to his dorm alone, thoughts clouding his mind without pity. _Is that really how other people see it?_ He wondered, scowling at his feet. _Does it really look like I have feelings for the Tomato Bastard? Because I don't! Hell, I could care less if I never had to see his face again!_ Even as he firmly agreed with himself, however; he couldn't exactly shake the small frown he had seen on Antonio's face earlier. It made his stomach twist guiltily for some reason.

* * *

Arthur stumbled into chemistry ten minutes after the bell had rung, clothes wrinkled and blond hair sticking out even more than usual, nearly dropping his book onto the floor as he pushed the door open. "Mr. Kirkland," Mr. Russey raised an eyebrow at him in surprise as he watched the usually punctual student tumble into his desk in an ungraceful heap. "It is an honor that you would grace us with your presence, kind sir. About time if I do say so myself."

It took every single ounce of self-control on the Brit's part to keep himself from pulling a Lovino Vargas and saying something completely disrespectful. He groaned, rubbing at his temples as he muttered a half hearted apology in order to get the teacher off his back. Amazingly, it worked.

"As I was saying before I was interrupted by Mr. Kirkland's dramatic entrance-" There was a soft scoff from his right, and Arthur pursed his lips together in annoyance, opening his book to the page he assumed they were on. "Look here, Frog," he hissed in a low voice. "I do not have the patience to put up with you today, I am still ticked about what you said yesterday."

No response.

Arthur's thick brows furrowed as he snuck a glance at the Frenchman sitting beside him. Francis wasn't looking at him; instead he was playing with a strand of hair that had fallen out of his ponytail while he scribbled something down on a small piece of paper and passed it to some girl sitting behind him when Mr. Russey wasn't looking.

"Frog!"

The other still wasn't listening, as if he was actually writing notes for chemistry!

"Mr. Kirkland, there must be a reason why you're interrupting my class again." Russey was glaring at him with his beady-eyed stare, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to bristle.

"I was trying to find out what page we're on." Arthur sent a dirty look to Francis, only to be given the cold shoulder again. As if he had a right to do so; if anything Arthur should be the one ignoring him for all the poppycock he had said the day before!

The day wasn't looking good so far, he was already getting a headache from the crazy morning stress. This was all that blasted Spaniard's fault! In all honesty he should have been expecting revenge for the whole tea ordeal, but he had simply pushed the possibility aside, deeming his roommate too stupid to get back at him. Somehow, he had been wrong. Antonio must have been blessed with a moment of a thought process, for he had managed to sabotage his alarm clock and set it for an entire hour late! Arthur wouldn't have been surprised if the wanker had set up a camera somewhere to capture the beauty of him running around the room like a chicken who had lost its head, attempting to run a brush through his poorly washed hair while he frantically pulled wrinkled clothes over his body. …

On second thought, of course Antonio must have had help for such a scheme. And Arthur had his suspicions. His green eyes narrowed questioningly as, under the scrutinizing eye of Mr. Russey, Francis finally glanced at him with a mischievous look in his cerulean eyes and murmured, "page forty-two, little black sheep." The small smirk that settled onto his face as he turned back to his book said it all; he knew. In fact, he probably had been the one to give Antonio the idea, the one who had has slipped into the room in the dead of night to execute the plan, and the one who had set up cameras too!

"You bloody wanker," he griped, tightening his grip on his pen.

The Frenchman chuckled under his breath. "l hope you slept well."

As a matter of fact, Arthur hadn't slept well at all! And it wasn't because he was wondering if Francis had been right when he had said he couldn't make friends without bossing them around, not at all… Actually, there was no point in lying to himself. The truth was he had spent restless hours tossing and turning in his bed with the annoying sound of Antonio's light snores in the background, trying not to think about his earlier conversation with Francis. It was truly ridiculous that those words actually stung, that he might actually be right.

 _I'm not bossy,_ he had tried to reason. _Well, not that bossy anyway. Sure, maybe I found a couple of guys who had at least one thing in common and practically took over their lives outside school hours, but it's not like I'm a complete control freak!_ Because that Frog had to be wrong, he couldn't be that bad at making friends, it wasn't like he had never had one before. There had been Aaron, but he had been so socially awkward the two barely conversed outside of school. What about Errick- wait. He had been a douche. In reality, the only people Arthur had actually spent time with were his insane, loud-mouthed brothers, and maybe that was why he was so overbearing at times. He was used to being the responsible one, the one who would take charge even if he was younger just so the house would live to see another day in the chaotic Kirkland family's life.

 _Perhaps Francis was right,_ he had eventually wondered. _Maybe I am undeniably controlling. Could that be why my friends are hiding things from me, because I am not personable at all?_ The thoughts had buzzed around in his head until early morning, when he finally fell asleep only to be awoken late.

Now he huffed, furrowing his brows as he attempted to focus on Mr. Russey's lecture. It was nearly impossible to do so when one's mind was going in a hundred different directions. _If that is the case,_ he silently reasoned, continuing his thoughts from the night before. _Than I don't really blame them I suppose...I am always so temperamental, uptight, and judgemental- look at all the times I've criticized Francis!_

The moment the thoughts entered his mind he froze with a soft gasp, dropping his pen onto his book as he shot a glare at the Frog, almost blaming him for putting those stupid words into his head. The was no way he could be feeling guilty for the way he had been treating him; he had been practically begging for it! The entire issue was stupid, somehow the Frenchman had managed to infiltrate his mind and get him to believe a whole lot of nonsense just to make him feel sorry for the Wanker!

 _I can be friendly,_ Arthur thought determinedly, grasping his pen and returning his gaze back to his book. _Watch out Frog, I'll prove it to your ugly face that maybe I'm not the one with all the issues here! Maybe I could do just fine with a friend who is not as quiet as Matthew or who is more friendly than Lovino! What would you do about that? I know just the fellow too!_

It didn't take long for Arthur to find the person he was considering, he was the loudest person in his math class after all. "There we were, nearly defeated, less than a minute left in the game. My ankle was still busted up pretty bad, but I said 'Coach, dude, put me in! I don't care if they have to carry me out of this stadium on a stretcher, I can do this.' He knew I was right, so he listened. And boy did I win the game! Do you know why? Because I am the hero!"

Arthur was already cringing, but he knew he had to talk to that annoying git because… because if he didn't that would mean Francis was right, that the issues he was having making friends was all his fault. He took a deep breath and took his seat in front of the bragging American, feeling his lips curve into an awkward smile. "Uh...Hello Alfred."

Bright blue eyes stared at him for a second before their owner blinked and jerked his glasses off his face. "Well what do you know? Prissy Pants is actually being nice for a change! Hey Artie."

 _Hey? What kind of greeting is that anyway?_ Arthur managed to keep his thoughts to himself as he shook his head. "Well...you see I was thinking about what you said a while ago, and I was wondering if maybe we could be friends…"

Alfred looked absolutely confused as he stared at him from his perch on top of his desk. "I know I haven't always acted kindly toward you, and I apologize for that," the Brit continued. "I do think we should move past that and start over, if you'd be interested that is."

Alfred beamed and put his glasses back on. "Rock out dude! That sounds absolutely wicked bro! I'd love to kick back and chill with you. But first I wanna tell you this really cool story about-"

Arthur slowly zoned out after that and rubbed at his temples. Maybe this would be harder than he thought.

* * *

See much and hear all, Matthew was good at that; he always had been. Unfortunately, he never could figure out what he was supposed to do after he looked and listened. How could he open his mouth and say something to make the situation better when people never listened to what he was trying to get across? It was impossible he decided.

Lovino was mad- even more so than usual. Matthew could handle that, he had seen him at nearly every stage of anger known to humanity. What he couldn't deal with was the Italian's silence. Normally when he was upset he'd be in the mood to rant and rave and stomp around, loudly voicing all his complaints to Matthew, who knew it was probably best if the other vented instead of taking his anger out on some poor unfortunate soul later in the day. But today he merely sat there with his lips firmly curled into a scowl, glaring at anyone who happened to walk within twenty feet of their table, relentlessly stabbing at his food instead of demanding that the stupid school needed to hire a decent Italian chef. Whenever the Canadian tried to make the slightest bit of small talk he only received a grunt and a nod for his efforts- and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do about it.

Arthur was also strangely quiet, his thick eyebrows furrowed in thought. It was weird; why wasn't he getting on his case because he wasn't holding his fork just right, or telling Lovino that cursing at his teacher was unacceptable, or announcing that the three of them had something to do later while he reminded them for the upteenth time to stay away from the Bad Touch Trio. Arthur was always the responsible one in their group; demanding and slightly bossy, but he was almost fatherly that way. Seeing both of his friends so out of character was unnerving.

"Uh...are we doing anything after school today Arthur?" He asked softly, licking his lips in his nervousness.

The Brit snapped out of his reverie and stared at him, almost looking offended that the question would be addressed to him. "Well I don't know," he said. "Why would you ask me?"

Matthew shrunk inwards and rubbed the back of his neck. "B-because you're usually…." He trailed off and glanced at Lovino pleadingly, hoping his roommate would help him out, even if his reply contained enough swears to cause even a sailor's head to turn- that would have been considered normal. But the Italian was too busy destroying his lunch to notice his dilemma. "Never mind. Sorry…"

 _What is with them today?_ Matthew asked himself for the hundredth time. He sighed and rubbed at his temples, wishing he could be more assertive and simply ask them what was wrong without making them explode. Francis seemed to have a knack for that. _I wonder what he would have to say. Maybe I can talk to him?_

He turned his head and glanced at the Bad Touch Trio's usual table, only to realize that his friends weren't the only ones having a bad day. The Frenchman looked distressed, glancing between his two friends like someone who was torn between two sides, a small frown on his face as he finally gave up and buried his head in his hands. Antonio wasn't smiling as he turned his head away from the others and continued eating, and Gilbert was glaring at the two of them, waving his arms around in order to get his point across. Finally he snapped, grabbing his belongings and marching out of the cafeteria angrily.

Matthew frowned softly at the scene. _I wonder what's going on with them,_ he thought. _It seems like everyone is out of sync today; maybe they have something to do with each other?_ It was strange, Gilbert had seemed fine yesterday, even as he snuck Matthew safely out of Ludwig's room he was laughing so hard tears were gathering in his red eyes. Something must have happened after.

 _I wish I could help everyone,_ Matthew sighed. _I wish I could talk to them, I wish I could say all the right things._ But he was all too aware that he couldn't.

Maybe it'd be best if he took a break, if he stepped away from the anger and the tension until he could feel himself relax. _Who knows,_ he thought as he looked around for a potential lunchtime vacation table. _I might find enlightenment._

Unfortunately for Matthew he didn't know many people, which limited his options to the loudest table in the entire cafeteria, the one with the crazy American standing on the table like a general ready to lead his army into battle. Alfred… Even though sitting with his brother would be anything but relaxing, Matthew knew he'd be welcome there. After all, Alfred had always told him "Mi casa es tu casa- or in this case mi mesa." He'd also said it with an accent that would probably cause poor Antonio actual, physical pain if he heard it. _That's where I'll have to go,_ he decided. _All I have to do is get Arthur on board._

"Um...Arthur?"

The Brit's green eyes shifted from his plate as he glanced up at him. "Yes Matthew?"

"I...well...I forgot that Alfred wanted me to sit with him today. Could I go now?"

Arthur's brow furrowed, and for a second Matthew was afraid he'd say no. "Of course you can! Please, I'm not your parent- it's not as if you have to ask my permission before you do anything! Am I right Lovino?"

The Italian merely shrugged and grunted quietly, leaving Matthew to slowly gather his belongings in confusion. "Oh...Right…" he stammered as he stood up. "Sorry for leaving so unexpectedly. I'll see you guys...later...maybe? Get better soon...please." The last part was whispered so softly the others didn't hear it as they buried themselves back into their thoughts. The Canadian sighed softly and sent them one last look before he headed off in the direction of his brother's table.

He could hear him long before he got there. "So dudes, I was thinking we should make a petition to have more freaking burgers for lunch, you know? Cause I mean, this foreign stuff is cool and all, but I don't want to have to go off-campus every time I want a cheeseburger! That's so much work and-"

"Alfred," Matthew interrupted gently, shaking his head in disbelief. "Why are you standing on the table?"

Alfred finally ended his pointless rant about burgers and smiled, hopping off the table. "Matt, dude! Are you here to hang with us bro?"

"Uh...I guess I am…"

"Sweet!" Alfred clasped him on the back, causing him to stumble forward slightly. "Pick a seat! Any seat! Actually sit here next to me." He gestured around the table wildly, while Matthew hesitantly sat down next to where he could only assume Alfred had been sitting and nodded a greeting to Kiku. "Dudes," Alfred continued, turning to his friends. "This is my brother Matthew, Matt, meet everyone! Well, you already know my roomie Kiku, so meet everyone else!"

"Ciao!" A hand suddenly materialized in front of his face, nearly crashing into his nose with an unexpected amount of force. "My name is Feliciano Vargas! You've heard of me, right? You're my fratello's roommate!"

Oh, this was Lovino's brother. Matthew shook his hand, now that he could see the other's face he could see some of the two's resemblance. "Oui, he's mentioned you before. You two look alike."

Feliciano beamed and retracted his hand. "Ve~! I know! How is he? Has he settled in? Is he making any friends? I would ask him myself, but we got into a really bad fight yesterday and now he won't talk to me!"

 _A fight? Well, that could offer some insight as to Lovino's strange behavior. I wonder what it was about…_

"Feliciano."

The voice caused Matthew to glance up and swallow thickly. He should have figured, where the younger Vargas was, Ludwig couldn't be far behind he was quickly realizing. "You shouldn't worry people with problems that don't concern them. If your brother wants him to know he'll talk eventually, I'm sure."

Feliciano giggled. "You're right, grazie Luddy! You're so smart!" The German's face turned a light shade of pink when the other touched his arm, but no one else seemed to notice, except for Kiku, who smiled ever so softly. "I wonder when they are going to confess to each other," he breathed, more to himself than to anyone else. Matthew smiled and silently agreed; the two of them would be cute together.

"Anyway," Gilbert's brother finally recovered from his flustered state and cleared his throat. "I'm Ludwig Beilschmidt. A pleasure to meet you…what was your name again?"

"M-Matthew…" _Please don't notice,_ He thought pleadingly. _Don't recognize me as the guy hiding in your closet with your brother. Please don't remember me._

Fortunately, Ludwig merely nodded and repeated his name before the only girl in the group decided to introduce herself. "Hello Aru!" She said. "I'm Yao, and I'm from China."

Alfred laughed. "Another thing to mention is that Yao is not a girl, even if he looks like one, haha!"

"That is not funny Alfred!" The Chinese...man… shouted, banging a rather feminine fist on the table. "You only thought that because you are blind and stupid! You're brother didn't think for a second that I was a woman, right?"

Matthew blushed. "Uh...sorry…" Alfred only laughed harder.

"Ah Alfred," the tall and until then silent man sitting next to Yao suddenly spoke up and placed a hand on the Chinese's small shoulder and smiled almost creepily. "Don't make fun of Yao, da?" He turned to Matthew, still grinning like a child. "My name is Ivan Braginsky, comrade. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to-"

"Don't listen to this guy," Alfred interrupted with a snarl, pointing at Ivan with his fork. "He's not trustworthy."

"Alfred that is a funny joke! I was being nice, wasn't I?"

"Oh sure, you're being nice now, just like you were when we met! But it's only a matter of time until you get all freaky and start trying to kill him like you tried to do to me!"

"Huh? If I had wanted you dead I would have gotten rid of you by now."

"Ha! As if you can kill a hero!"

"Would you two shut up and stop arguing?!" Yao demanded.

Kiku shook his head and continued eating, ignoring the fight going on around him. "Are they always like this?" Matthew whispered to him as he followed his lead.

"Most of the time, yes. You are probably wondering why we even bother spending so much time together with all the fighting."

Matthew nodded. "It is true, we don't always agree on everything; we all have different ideas, cultures, and beliefs. But in the end we may find that we've changed for the better as well. That is the beauty of companionship I suppose; it's hard sometimes but the results are worth it."

Matthew smiled, thinking about both his friends and the Bad Touch Trio. Times were tough at the moment, but he could still see the changes they were bringing in his life. Before he would have never found himself spending time with people after school, and forget trespassing into dorm rooms or hiding in closets. If they were able to do that for him he must have something he could offer...anything. _Maybe I can help bring everyone together, he thought. I just have to figure out what I can do._ "You're right," he said softly.

Kiku nodded. "It was your brother who helped me, can you imagine? He was the one who demanded that I couldn't stay in our room all day and forced me out. If he hadn't, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to grow. Or to see things like this."

He gestured across the table, to where Feliciano was talking to Ludwig, waving his arms around excitedly. The German cracked the smallest of smiles and shook his head in amusement, resting a hand comfortably on the other's shoulder.

 _As much as Lovino hates on him, Ludwig really seems to care for Feliciano, they are lucky to have each other, he decided. I wonder if I'll ever be fortunate enough to find someone who cares that much, someone who looks at me and doesn't look through me, someone who never fails to notice…_ Never fails to notice. For some reason he immediately thought of Gilbert.

* * *

 _ **Can you imagine a writer on their knees begging for the forgiveness of their readers for being so late? I can, and my knees are starting to get stiff from kneeling for so long… I'm so so sorry everyone! These past few weeks have really gotten to me for some reason, and I hit some form of a writer's block. I knew what I wanted to happen but I couldn't figure out how to get there.**_

 _ **Again, I'm sorry. I think it's time to admit that I won't be able to update on a regular basis...which really sucks. School is starting back up and I'm already looking at my schedule and slightly freaking out from the stress that hasn't quite hit yet. But don't worry, you have yet to see the last of me!**_

 _ **I'll end my pathetic apologies now. Please review and I'll see you next chapter!**_


	8. Chapter 7

_Chapter seven_

Somewhere in the back of his mind Gilbert knew he should be thankful for the fact that Antonio had forced him into signing up for that stupid, unawesome gardening club the year before, because now he had a place to go. Ha, but why the hell would he appreciate anything Antonio had done? He was far too angry for that.

"Verdammt!" He shouted loudly as he burst through the door of the roof garden, tossing his fists into the air, as he stalked down the length of the roof in a fury of German curses. His actions disturbed a few pigeons brooding nearby, causing them to flap their wings and hop out of his way with a squawk of protest.

Their ruffled appearance made him stop stomping around, a small smile forcing its way to his face; he really loved birds. "Sorry guys," he said in a softer tone, watching as they settled near his feet in search for food. "Didn't mean to freak you out. I'm just...frustrated."

Gilbert backed against the wall and slid down with a groan, running his hands through his white hair. It was ridiculous really, Antonio had no right to be mad at him! He hadn't done anything wrong. And an angry Spaniard wasn't something he wanted to deal with at this point in time, Antonio was always so moody when he was upset: he sulked, he delivered an icy cold shoulder, Gott alone knew when he'd snap and in all honesty he was a major pain in the ass.

Then there was Mr. High and Mighty, Sir Francis, Lord of the snails. Once again he had appointed himself the great mediator of all Spanish-Prussian conflict and surprise- he had sided with Antonio. Again. So now, Gilbert was suddenly the enemy because he had talked to the guy Toni was attempting- and probably failing- to pursue. How did that even make sense? It wasn't as if Gilbert was flirting with Lovino or anything! If things worked out between their brothers they'd practically be related, as scary as that sounded. Not to mention that Francis, being the hypocritical, biased scum that he could be at times, was clearly talking to Matthew about food, and French, and w-whatever else. Was Gilbert sitting there having a big hissy fit? No, because he was awesome and confidant and didn't have jealousy issues like some people he knew. _Antonio, you need to get a grip, you're acting like a pathetic freshman bitch._ But of course, Gilbert wasn't going to tell his friend what he was thinking- he'd prefer to skip the trip to the hospital this year if it was alright.

Gilbert stiffened, his eyes widening nervously as the soft creak. The door to the stairwell was being opened. _Fuck,_ he silently cursed. _I've gotten caught! How unawesome-_

"Gilbert? Are you up here?"

 _Wait what?_ The Prussian blinked stupidly, his jaw nearly hitting the ground when the person looking for him appeared at his side. "Matthew?" He stared for a moment, wondering if he was going crazy and rubbing at his face. "What are you doing here?" He asked when the image didn't disappear.

The Canadian smiled slightly and tilted his head to one side in curiosity. "I guess I could ask you the same thing, eh?"

"Well...ja but-" Gilbert cut himself off with a shake of his head. It made sense for him to be hiding out and avoiding class, that was something he had done for years; because Gilbert was rebellious and daring, spontaneous and awesomely free. Matthew wasn't like him, right? That had been one of the things that had drawn him to the quiet Canadian in the first place. Matthew had his head on his shoulders, he wasn't wild or unruly, he didn't go to parties because he didn't want to, because he knew that sitting in a cosy kitchen and talking over a plate of pancakes was actually more wholesome in the end. No, Matthew was the total opposite of him, but he was still incredibly awesome.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" He was asking now, his eyes twinkling as if he was amused at the lack of an intelligent response. After Gilbert nodded he slid down next to him and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "I saw you storm off during lunch," he explained. "And then you never came to Art. I just...I wanted to see if you were alright."

Gilbert blinked, a grin slowly crawling onto his face in spite of his previous mood. "So you ditched class for me?"

"W-well... I guess you could put it that way..." Matthew flushed a bright red and drew his heels closer to his body. "Francis said you might be up here... He said you probably wouldn't want to talk to him... Is everything okay with you guys?"

Gilbert shrugged as he glanced down at the birds pecking at the ants near his shoelaces. It seemed so easy to complain to anyone about the small things, those little issues that could be laughed off after a couple hours. In reality it was harder to open up when the subject sincerely bothered him...it just wasn't awesome to be so vulnerable. He hated that feeling, which was why he loved to hide away from people until he had figured things out on his own. But then again, Matthew was different, and Gilbert was positive he wouldn't judge. Maybe it really would do him some good to talk for once; it wasn't like he was coming up with ideas of his own.

The Prussian scratched the back of his head and hummed softly. "I don't know," he started off, already cringing at the uncharacteristic uncertainty in his voice. "They're...just being stupid I guess. Antonio is all pissy because I'm talking to Lovino and Francis is being a douche and is siding with him. And it really fucking sucks." Matthew scooted himself closer in order to hear the quiet words leaving the normally confidant lips, nodding for him to continue. "It's messed up! And it's idiotic too! I'm not trying to go after Lovino!" Gilbert growled out, frustration causing his voice to grow louder. "I would never do something so unawesome as to steal someone away from my friend. I wouldn't do that to anyone, not even that prissy brat Roderich who took my friend Elizabeta. I didn't, because I knew how much she liked him. Francis and Antonio know this, and that's why it pisses me off so much! They even know that I'm into someone else and it's not stopping them! I just- ugh!" He tossed his hands into the air and leaned against the wall, running his hand through his hair.

"Sorry," he murmured in a soft voice. "I didn't mean to unload on you like that."

Matthew shook his head reassuringly. "It's fine Gilbert; I'm glad you told me." He made a small face, glancing off to the side in thought. "I think I might know how to help you, if you even want my help that is."

"Ja, of course," Gilbert agreed quickly, nodding his head. He loved hearing the other open up and talk to him, it made him feel important, being trusted to listen to Matthew's scarcely heard opinions. Besides, he was sure he had good advice; he somehow managed to hang out with him, talk with Francis, and be close friends with Lovino and Arthur without causing the slightest bit of drama. Because really, who in the right mind could be mad at Matthew?

Smiling a bit, he moved even closer to his side, letting their hips lightly brush together as he urged the Canadian to continue. "Well," Matthew began, humming to himself. "I wouldn't stop talking to Lovino. I'd like to think that I know him pretty well, and I'd say not talking to him might be even more dangerous than actually conversing with him. Lovino hates being ignored."

Gilbert nodded. "Right, it'd be pointless anyway. Feli wants the four of us to spend time together, so I'd see him on a regular basis no matter what. I guess we kinda have a weird friendship: I more or less distract him from attacking West every chance he gets."

"So you know what the boundaries are, and so does Lovino, but you need to make sure Antonio can clearly see them too. I know you wouldn't try anything, but I have to admit from his perspective things are very confusing and frustrating. You have to let him know you're on his side."

"And how do I do that?" Gilbert asked with a raise of a silver eyebrow.

Matthew smiled. "By being supportive, make sure you don't spend excessive time with Lovino and definitely don't talk about him to Antonio all the time- he'll think you're taunting him. And be subtle, maybe give Lovino a causal push in Antonio's direction every once in awhile. Once he sees that you're actually helping him he'll stop feeling so threatened."

"Wow, that really helps!" Gilbert grinned. "You're good at this, Mattie. Which is awesome for me; I'm glad you're actually helping me with our drama. Those friends of yours seem to want nothing to do with us."

Matthew laughed slightly. "Well, I still don't think you three are as bad as Lovino and Arthur make you out to be. And I like helping out... But I do have one last bit of advice."

"I'm all ears."

"Y-you said that you are interested in someone," he stuttered, glancing down at his lap as his face grew red. "I think you should make that clear as well, make sure it's obvious in Antonio's mind and all...you know?"

Gilbert nodded, raising an eyebrow at Matthew's shy antics. It was weird, he hardly ever acted so nervous around him anymore as he had seemed to have warmed up to him. In fact, Gilbert was positive a little bit of his awesome confidence had rubbed off on the shy Canadian. "Will do," he agreed slowly. "Thanks, for everything."

Matthew bobbed his head in acknowledgment and scrambled to his feet. "I should get back to class...this has been a long bathroom break..."

' _Take advantage of your time…'_

"Wait!" Gilbert exclaimed, reaching out and catching the other's sleeve before he could disappear. "You can't just leave without letting me follow your advice!"

Matthew turned back around, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean, Gil?"

"What do I mean?" The Prussian let out a quick laugh and rubbed the back of his head. _Be cool Gilbert. You're awesome. Why the hell are you nervous?_ "I mean I want you to go out with me, obviously!"

Matthew merely stared with wide amethyst eyes threatening to pop out from behind his glasses, his mouth dangling in a cute 'o' shape. Gilbert grinned awkwardly. "Heh, remember what you said? To spend time with the one I'm interested in?"

"Gilbert," Matthew finally whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. "Antonio won't be convinced if you go on dates with someone who's invisible."

"Oh come on Mattie! Stop selling yourself short! Look around the school; do you see anyone awesome enough to date me?" Matthew opened his mouth. "No," Gilbert interrupted, regaining his normal ego. "The answer is no. I know how awesome you are; all you have to do is believe it. Besides, I still owe you for dragging you into the whole thing with Ludwig and Feliciano. So...what do you say? Bitte?"

Matthew blinked, his lips slowly curling into a soft smile as his eyes gleamed happily. "Okay."

"Really?!"

He chuckled and glanced down at the ground in embarrassment. "Sure. After all, you're right. You really do owe me after that fiasco with your brother. I had to hide in a closet...a-and it's helping you straighten things up with your friends...so..."

Gilbert was absolutely beaming, crushing the smaller boy in a tight hug as he chanted his thanks into his blonde hair. "It will be so awesome, you won't regret it!" He declared when he finally released him.

"I'm sure I won't," Matthew murmured, hiding his red face behind his sleeve. "I'll see you later..?"

"Awesome," the albino agreed with a grin. "Can I have your number? That way I can get a hold of you." Matthew nodded shyly, quickly reciting his phone number while Gilbert excitedly pulled his phone out of his pocket and punched in the digits, bouncing on the balls of his feet the entire time. "Use that time to your advantage," Francis had told him. "If you do, your job will end up easier than ours. I'm sure of it."

 _Well Franny,_ Gilbert thought triumphantly as the Canadian said goodbye and hurried down the stairs. _You had no fucking idea._

* * *

Antonio was confused. Okay, so maybe that happened a lot, but the Spaniard was sure that this time, his confusion was for a legitimate reason. After all, it didn't make any sense at all, not even when he had carefully explained the situation to Francis. "Are you sure you didn't do something?" The blonde had asked with a concerned frown on his face. "You didn't say anything to make him upset?"

The answer had been no, Antonio couldn't remember doing or saying anything that would have caused something like this; all he knew was that Lovino had been acting strange the entire time they had been studying the other day. Truthfully, Antonio himself had been feeling weird that day too- it was so hard to get anywhere with that Italian and it could be very discouraging at times... But Lovi had been antsy, he kept glancing at his phone(to text Gilbert was what Antonio had figured out) and at one point he finally yelled something and...left.

It had been two days since the incident in the cafe and Lovino was still being weird. And by weird, it meant he was totally ignoring Antonio. Usually the Italian would give him a sour retort and swear at him, at the very least he would silently glare at him from his seat in the corner, but lately he had been acting as if Antonio didn't even exist. Any time the Spaniard attempted the slightest bit of conversation he was shot down by unresponsiveness, and it was starting to wear down on his cheery spirit.

 _Maybe this is Gilbert's doing,_ he wondered yet again, his usual smile slipping from his face at the thought. He really didn't want to accuse his friend, but what other explanation did he have? Lovino had started acting like this the day he and Gilbert were texting back and forth, and no one bothered to tell him what that was about either.

Tired of being left in the dark, he tried asking Lovino's younger brother, but Feliciano had been just as confused as he was. "He's not speaking to you?" He had repeated with a small frown. "Non capisco... Do you know why?" Antonio had merely shaken his head miserably. "I was hoping you could tell me..."

That had been when he concluded that Gilbert had something to do with it; he was the only one who talked to Lovino aside from Arthur and...what was the other one's name? The Brit hadn't burst into the room gloating about getting Lovino mad at him, so Antonio assumed his annoying roommate was innocent. Gilbert was his only lead.

Naturally the Prussian had been set off by the whole thing and stormed off in a flurry of curses and grumblings, not giving out the slightest hint as to what the real problem might be. "Even if he does know more than he is letting on," Francis had reasoned. "The question still remains: why won't cute little Lovino talk to you?" Aye, if only he knew the answer to that...

"Toni!"

The loud voice suddenly pulled Antonio out of his thoughts with a jolt, his reflexes moving his body out of the way of the oncoming ball before it could hit him. "Lo siento!" He gasped as he jogged toward the soccer ball as Alfred insisted on calling it. He dribbled it for a moment as he scanned the field, looking for someone to pass it to.

"Antonio!" Across the field, the coach motioned for the ball, easily catching it when Antonio kicked it to him.

Coach Russell was an average height, silver-haired man with more energy than most people his age, and that was one reason why everyone loved him. His job was his passion, he hated coaching from the sidelines so he usually would run the drills and play the practice games with the team, he took into consideration the fact that World Academy had no girl's team and allowed the few interested to join his, making it a coed team. "As long as the competition is alright with losing to girls," he had confidently stated with a laugh. The entire team appreciated his dedication, his insistence on finding tutors for those struggling with their grades, and most of all for his upbeat personality.

But today he looked stressed, his lips pulled into a tight line as he shook his head. "We're running through that drill again," he announced. "The whole point is for the three offensive players to pass the ball to each other in order to avoid the defender, in this case Abel. Natalia, Gilbert, and Mathias are passing. Go!"

"He looks exhausted," Francis noted as he approached, lightly resting a hand on Antonio's shoulder. "And you, mon ami, are simply out of it. Gilbert hasn't tried to talk to you has he?"

Antonio shook his head slightly, his lips curling into a soft frown at the thought. "Nope. He's probably still mad about earlier."

"I don't know, I sent sweet Mathieu after him and it seems as though he has calmed him down. He even came up to me before practice, saying he wanted to talk to you when he had the chance."

"Well I don't want to talk to him."

"Ah Antonio," Francis muttered with a disapproving shake of his head. "Stop being so stubborn. He may have some important information on little Lovino."

The Spaniard shot his friend a look, shrugging a shoulder lazily. "Or he's the reason why Lovi stopped talking to me."

"Mon Dieu! I swear if you don't-"

"Hey Francis, Toni, guess what!" The two were interrupted by Alfred, who bounded toward them with a large smile on his face.

Antonio immediately joined him, playfully tapping at his chin. "No sé," he said with a laugh. "What?"

"I think I recruited a new teammate! I mean, he hasn't exactly said yes yet, but I'm sure Arthur is willing to play!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Antonio saw Francis stiffen, coughing ever so softly like he did whenever he was faking interest. "Oh? You're acquainted with Arthur Kirkland?"

"We're more like friends now," Alfred corrected. "Sure he was a bit cranky when we first met, but I think we really clicked today!"

Francis hummed softly. "Really? That's very-"

Antonio wasn't sure what he had wanted to say, because the conversation stopped when Coach Russell approached. "I don't suppose you three are talking about the drill, are you?" Alfred muttered an apology under his breath, while Antonio grinned in his defense. The coach sighed. "Francis, you're defending with the next group. Alfred can wait a few minutes until I'm done talking with Antonio. Understand?"

"Sure Coach."

"Oui." The American raced off to talk with someone else, leaving Francis to walk away at a calmer pace, sending a look to Antonio over his shoulder.

The Spaniard shrugged slightly and turned to Coach Russell with a cheery smile on his face. "Did you need something, Coach?"

"I'm sure you have an idea."

"Uh..." Antonio grinned sheepishly. "I don't think I do..."

The older man simply gave him a stern look, clearly unamused by his antics. "Don't try that with me Carriedo, I know you better than that. That last pass to you was perfect, incredible, and you completely missed it. Mentally you were in a completely different place." He raised an eyebrow. "It's not like you, you're usually working harder than anyone on the field, but today...I can tell your head's not in the practice."

 _Oh._ The Spaniard rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. He really hadn't meant to be so obvious about it! Normally he wouldn't let anything get in the way of the sport he loved so much, especially not some problem he was having in his romantic life. So what if one or two turned him down? As Francis loved to point out, there were plenty of fish in the sea, and it wasn't hard to recast his line and catch another one. But Lovino...

Lovino had a way of weaseling himself into the Spaniard's mind and stubbornly refused to leave, which had already caused so many problems. Half of Antonio believed it would be easier to give up on the feisty little Italian, for there were other people in the school who wouldn't make things difficult, who wouldn't curse in every sentence, and who actually enjoyed his presence. Even so, the more he thought about turning his back on Lovi, the less he liked it. Why? Was it the challenge? The boy's looks? The overwhelming desire to see him smile because of something he had said or done? Dios mio, he was zoning out again.

"I'm okay I promise!" Antonio assured, trying his best to sound convincing. "I just have a lot on my mind today."

"It's not your grades that are bugging you, right? Because I swear if I lose one of my best players because he's failing this year-"

"Don't worry Coach, my grades are good this year." He offered another sheepish grin. "It's nothing serious, I'll focus on the practice this time!"

The coach scoffed slightly. "Just don't try thinking too hard kid, you might hurt yourself. Now go out there and show us what you're really made out of; you, Alfred, and Elizabeta are running the drill after this next group."

Antonio nodded, already hurrying across the field. He couldn't afford to mess up this time; he would have to try to stop thinking about all the drama until the practice was over. "Hey...Toni?" Speaking of drama...

Antonio stopped with a small sigh, turning to Gilbert with a raised eyebrow. "¿Qué quieres?"

Gilbert looked a lot less uncomfortable than he felt, glancing at the Spaniard as if nothing had gone wrong between them. "Look, about this stupid crap about Lovino. I-"

"I really don't want to talk about this right now," Antonio murmured with a small, forced smile plastered to his face. "I have to focus on practice, you know."

"Okay I get that you're cranky as fuck, but what I have to say is important- it always is." Gilbert huffed slightly, as if Antonio had a duty to hear him out just because he had said so. That was just like the loud Prussian, always demanding to be listened to as if it was a privilege on behalf of his audience. Usually, Antonio wouldn't mind it and would laugh as he listened to outrageous stories about "the Awesome Me," but today he really wasn't in the mood to deal with this. Looking at his friend now only reminded him that he and his arrogant demeanor had somehow drawn Lovino to his side while the latter simply ignored him. And the way Gilbert's lips curved into a small smirk of confidence made him look as though he was about to brag about it instead of work things out like Francis had suggested.

Antonio's cheerful facade was cracking; if he had to look at Gilbert for a second longer he was going to punch him. Instead, he forced his eyes to the ground, tracing an angry line with the sole of his cleat as he willed himself to keep his breathing under control. "I can't," he stated in the calmest voice he could muster, lifting his chin slightly as he smiled. Good thing he knew how to hide emotions behind a clueless grin, otherwise the two of them would be fighting- that was obvious. "We're in the middle of practice," he added.

Gilbert huffed and crossed his arms in annoyance. "Fine- don't listen to me. But don't get pissy when things don't go your way, because I actually know what I'm doing!" Angry red eyes stared him down for half a second before the Prussian turned on his heel and marched away to ask the coach something about getting more sunscreen.

Antonio released a deep sigh and shook his head, willing a more sincere smile back onto his face as he joined Alfred and Elizabeta. He could do this; he could run this easy drill perfectly, just like he had done every other practice. He would push everything that was bothering him to the back of his mind, where he wouldn't have to worry about Gilbert, or Lovi, or anything else besides fútbol.

"Hey Toni!" Alfred suddenly hissed. "Who's that guy Gilbert's talking to? It looks like one of the Italian brothers, but I can't tell which one from here!"

And just like that, his attention was once again diverted. Antonio quickly glanced up in the direction his American friend was pointing, green eyes growing wide as he recognized Lovino standing beside Gilbert, who was chatting rather loudly as he applied his third layer of sunscreen. His heart skipped a beat as he barely managed to keep from squealing at the unexpected sight of the Italian, who was pouting cutely at whatever Gilbert was babbling about, arms crossed tightly across his small chest. Gilbert...of course.

Antonio's giddiness quickly turned into a jealous churning in the pit of his stomach, causing a frown to settle onto his normally smiling lips. This was getting ridiculous! Gilbert was clearly doing this on purpose now, to get back at Antonio for...for something stupid that he probably hadn't meant to do! Now we was flamboyantly parading his companionship with Lovino around, and it was taking every ounce of self control left to keep Antonio from storming over there and grabbing the albino by the throat. Gilbert said something that must have been amusing or retarded, for it had Lovino shaking his head with a small burst of smug laughter. Antonio's fists curled. He was going to do something rash, he could feel it welling up in his chest, tingling through his veins, and-

Before he could even take a step in his desired direction the ball came out of nowhere, smashing right into his face and knocking him flat on his back. "Szar! Antonio are you alright?"

Aye, that was Elizabeta's voice wasn't it? But where was she? Antonio could only blink slowly, making feeble attempts to refocus his sight as he forced his hand to carefully swipe alongside the bottom of his aching nose. Was there blood on his fingertips? He narrowed his eyes with a grimace, willing the black spots to disappear from his vision. He couldn't tell.

"Toni! I am so sorry!" Elizabeta's voice grew closer, her silhouette appearing in front of him to block out the sun. "You're not bleeding! You'll be fine, right?"

Antonio exhaled, chuckling softly as he rubbed his face. "Dios Eliza," he breathed. "I forget you have one hell of a kick."

She smiled sheepishly and helped him to his feet, gingerly picking grass from his hair and shoulders. "I know, I forget too sometimes."

"Antoine! Are you okay?" Francis asked frantically, jogging up with the rest of the worried team. The Spaniard put his brightest grin on his face, ignoring the aching pain it caused; he hated having people worry about him. "I'm fine. I just-"

"Need to ice it right away," Coach Russell interrupted. "It'll keep the swelling to a minimum. Are you sure it's not bad?"

"Positive."

Beside him, Elizabeta hummed thoughtfully. "I'll get the first aid kit for him Coach. The rest of you can finish practice." Coach Russell nodded, barking a few instructions to the team- and to Gilbert to get back on the field- while the calm Hungarian slowly inspected Antonio's face with an air of suspicion. She had always been a friend of the BTT through association with Gilbert, and if anyone other than his two closest friends could tell when he was faking something, it was her. "Are you sure nothing's broken?" She murmured.

Antonio shrugged, wincing as her fingers grazed his nose. "I don't think so. Something would have cracked, sí?"

"Probably." Elizabeta withdrew her hand suddenly, a small smirk settling into her face. "Stay here, I'll grab you some ice."

Antonio wasn't sure why, but he found himself swallowing thickly as he watched her jog towards the first aid kit. There had been a certain gleam in her green eyes that made him feel uncomfortable- it was like she knew something. He watched, somewhat nervously, as she returned with the smirk still set on her face, shaking the ice pack before handing it to him. He smiled slightly and mumbled his gratitude as he applied the pack to his face, shrinking back at the coldness.

Elizabeta looked at him for a few seconds with hands on her hips before she finally spoke. "So...you have a thing for Italians, huh?"

If Antonio wasn't already feeling dizzy, he certainly was now. His eyes widened in a panic, desperately shaking his head. "No!" He exclaimed quickly. Too quickly.

Her mischievous smirk was already growing as she raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh please, I noticed the look on your face when you saw him talking with Gilbert. You're completely smitten- not that I'm surprised; he is a cutie, huh?"

In spite of the ice on his face, Antonio could feel heat growing on his cheeks and the back of his neck, but he still couldn't keep himself from glancing back at Lovino- even though he was pretty sure that talking to the crazy Hungarian about him wasn't the smartest move. He had heard countless horror stories about her weird obsessions and her tendency to meddle with everyone else's business. Yet at the same time… Eliza was smart, and she knew what she was doing. If he could get her help maybe...just maybe he could get somewhere. "He really is," he said truthfully. "But he's different...nothing I do impresses him."

Elizabeta hummed in acknowledgment. "Well I can tell you what won't help you: sitting around moping whenever someone else talks to him. Go! Stop wasting your time!" With a deliberate shove she turned and stalked back on the field, leaving Antonio to awkwardly shuffle toward the Italian. Gracias a Dios Gilbert was no longer loitering around, being far too friendly and standing way too close; now he could finally focus.

Lovino was sitting on the bleachers with earbuds in his ears, scowling at something he was creating on the paper in front of him. His hair fell carelessly into his eyes, and his pouting lips twitched slightly in disapproval; why wasn't he ever happy? Antonio was determined to fix it, and he had always been known to be stubborn.

"Lovi! Lovi, hi!" He greeted happily as he slid in next to him, reaching over to remove the nearest earbud. Not the best move.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He suddenly snapped, throwing his hands into the air in irritation. His flashing hazel eyes bore into his own, daring him to try one more thing. "Lo giuro su Dio, you're the most annoying bastard, always touching me and getting in my space and ugh! What the hell happened to your face?"

"My face?" In his nervous excitement to talk to the Italian, Antonio had nearly forgotten his injury. Now he gingerly brought a warm hand to his face, barely even flinching due to the numbness. It was so much better than pain. "You didn't see it happen?" He asked the other in surprise.

Lovino scoffed at him and rolled his eyes in disdain. "No shit Sherlock. Why the fuck would I be asking if I knew, huh?"

"Good point," Antonio laughed slightly as he shifted in his seat. "Ah, I wasn't really paying attention during the drill and the ball hit me right in the face."

A small smirk formed on the lips of his listener. "Really?"

"Yep! It knocked me flat on my back too! It was so embarrassing, falling like that in front of everyone. I bet Coach is regretting making me captain now."

Lovino was quietly chuckling now, and it was so adorable it made the Spaniard want to keep finding ways to make him laugh. Even if he was laughing at him. "So Lovi?"

"What bastard?"

"What are you doing over here anyway?" Antonio asked curiously. "I mean, not that I don't want you around! I'm just wondering..."

Lovino glanced at his lap with a soft red tint on his cheeks. "Don't fucking think about getting the wrong idea, dammit," he grumbled. "But I need you for this shitty Spanish grade."

* * *

Francis rubbed his temples in attempt to ease away the growing headache as he fought an urge to release a sigh. He knew Antonio wouldn't even notice if he did let one escape, or even if he completely stopped listening to the other chatter through the phone line, but he couldn't bring himself to that level of disinterest. He really hated himself sometimes.

Instead, the Frenchman slouched lower in the uncomfortable bench and adjusted the thick sunglasses to a more comfortable position on the bridge of his nose. "Well I'm glad you got him to talk at least," he told his friend, successfully keeping the mixture of boredom and anxiety from showing through his voice. "Slow but efficient, mon ami. That will probably work best with the little Italian."

 _Ah, I have the brains of a psychologist yet the talent of an actor._ The thought caused a small smile to shift onto his face, until he remembered that he was sitting on a random bench right outside the school campus wearing an ugly mustard yellow jacket and a hideous wool hat that hid all his beautiful hair under its faded salmon material. Then he remembered why he was sitting there suffering in such abominable clothing to begin with, because his brilliant "psychologist mind" hadn't thought of a way to avoid the situation he was now entangled in. He was there because he couldn't do anything else; what was the point in possessing talent and brains when he was as desperate as a starving author?

He paused his silent soliloquy and tuned back to his friend on the other end of the phone. Antonio must have had his cell tucked in between his ear and his shoulder, for the slightly muffled sounds of a familiar guitar could be heard plucking in the background as he spoke. "Of course you're right Francis," he chirped. "You always are right. But I've been thinking about something..."

Francis tilted his chin up, allowing a teasing smile to settle on his lips. "Antoine that's dangerous."

"Haha that can be true, huh? You always say I'm either not thinking enough or thinking too hard..." There was a pause, and for a moment even the music faltered, hesitantly following its creator. "Maybe I am, you know? Thinking too hard?"

"I won't know until you explain. What's worrying you?" He sat up and stretched, blue eyes scanning his surrounding as if to see if someone was approaching.

"Well...are we doing something wrong here?" Antonio asked gently, whispering the words as if he was afraid of them. "I know everyone gets rejected sometimes, I know we tend to get a little pushy sometimes, but Dios mio, are we trying too hard?"

Francis blinked in astonishment, his boredom instantly forgotten. After all, Antonio wasn't usually the one to notice something so subtle- that was the Frenchman's job. _If he is catching on we may be in worse trouble than I thought,_ he wondered, pressing his lips into a straight worried line. If he can see it too then it's not subtle at all, it must be painfully obvious.

Antonio must have thought he was silently laughing at him, for he quickly continued with a slight air of embarrassment in his voice. "I mean, I could be completely wrong. But we feel as though we have to try this hard, because Lovino, Arthur, and..."

"Matthew."

"Right, Matthew. They're not making anything as easy as it normally is. We are doing everything we can to get closer, but I feel as though we're...compromising. Is this dangerous Francis, what we're doing?"

There it was, quite possibly the most important question Antonio had ever asked him; the question Francis found himself spending a lot of time on. It plagued his mind when he half-heartedly flirted with the girls without his usual zeal, or when he purposely made slight mistakes in chemistry that would ruin the experiment in order to make his British partner wind up like a jack in the box ready to burst out of its confines. The worries loomed in the back of his head when he noticed how uptight and petty his two closest friends were acting about something that shouldn't be a big deal, when he thought about why he was doing what he was about to do right now. It was beyond dangerous; the Bad Touch Trio was playing with fire- and they wouldn't get burns on their hands, but on their hearts. These wounds wouldn't be healed with a bit of ice and aloe vera; they would be too deep for that, too painful, they would fester, rot them from the inside out, burn their very hearts out and-

Francis shook the terrible thoughts about of his now aching head. Being melancholy and imaginative with a dash of dramatic flair wasn't exactly a good combination, his maman had warned him about that- said he would hurt himself with his own made-up terrors. If this was only an irrational fear he had come up with then there was no point in concerning Antonio with it and make him worry over nothing. It was fine; they'd make it out triumphant and without a care in the world just like they always did.

"There's a bit of a risk in everything I imagine," he said carefully, making sure to keep the strain of anxiety out of his voice. "But I don't think this particular situation is any more dangerous than the others."

"You think so?" Antonio breathed, and it seemed as though his voice grew softer every time he spoke.

Francis found himself raising his own slightly, trying desperately to boost the confidence of his friend. "Of course."

"Right….of course…" the Spaniard echoed to himself. "Haha, this was silly of me, wasn't it? Lo siento, I should let you handle the worrying Francis; I always get worked up about nothing. I'll see you later?"

Francis nodded numbly and murmured a farewell as he hung up the phone. Try as he might he couldn't shake this feeling of dread, and he couldn't help but feel as though he had told his friend a lie that could result in harm. However….even if there was something, it was better if he dealt with it himself instead of involving his friends. What could they do anyway? Antonio would only worry himself to death, refusing food or sleep and let his grades slip, while Gilbert would pointedly ignore all advice until it was too late. Francis couldn't deal with either of those responses, especially if he didn't know if anything was actually wrong.

"C'est ridicule," he decided, firmly stating the words to himself. Maybe he would believe them if they were actually said out loud enough times.

"I have to agree, it is ridiculous," a quiet voice piped up from his left.

The Frenchman jumped, ripping his glasses from his face in order to send the Canadian beside him an incredulous look. "How long have you been standing there?" he gasped.

Matthew grinned a little and shrugged. "Only a minute maybe. It took me a while to recognize you with that look. You even managed to make your face look as white as a sheet. How did you do that?"

"Ah, I take advantage of the fact that the drama club owns many unfashionable pieces of fabric," Francis explained, standing up to stretch his arms over his head. "What about you? Don't you think you'll be spotted?"

"Me? Spotted?" Matthew shook his head, letting his honey blond hair shake slightly as well. "You didn't notice me, and you were looking. Alfred isn't really observant anyway."

"Touché." he slipped the sunglasses back onto his face, allowing the world to slip into an artificial green tint. "Do you know when we can expect them?"

The younger teen glanced behind him at the gate of the academy, shrugging a shoulder. "Any minute now. They were getting ready to go when I left, so they should be right behind-" Matthew abruptly turned back towards Francis with wide violet eyes. "Nevermind, they're coming now."

The words caused his heart to leap into his throat, but Francis managed to shakily push it back where it belonged, watching the pair of students as they strolled along the sidewalk outside the campus. Alfred looked jubilant, smiling excitedly as he chatted about anything and everything, casually bumping his shoulder against his shorter companion. And Arthur...well, Arthur didn't shoot back an angry swear or demand that the American stopped being to stupid. Arthur would only roll his eyes and make a half-hearted grumble here and there, a fond smile on those pretty lips of his and- was that a blush?!

Eyes threatening to bug out from behind the glasses, Francis reached out to grab Matthew's arm, squeezing until the other began to squirm uncomfortably. "How long has this been going on?" He hissed, dropping the arm as if it burned.

Matthew glanced up at him in a bit of a panic. "Um...I don't know...a couple days? A week maybe?"

"Merde!"

What was wrong with him? Why was he so upset by the idea of Arthur fancying someone who wasn't him? Why did he feel the urge to march over and tear Alfred away in order to take his place? He suddenly knew exactly how Antonio felt when Gilbert insisted on hanging out with Lovino. But he shouldn't be jealous! Alfred was a good guy, albeit a bit oblivious at times. If he made the Brit happy then...then that was fine. Then he should let them. He should stay out of the way. He shouldn't meddle.

….

Oh, but he wanted to meddle more than he had ever wanted to before; his fingers itched to destroy the offending relationship. The thoughts couldn't possibly be healthy.

A calm hand rested on his upper arm, rubbing reassuring circles into the thick fabric of his jacket until he managed to bring his breathing back to normal. "Don't worry Francis," Matthew was whispering. "We'll get him back. I might not be able to do much but...I'll help. I promise."

Francis blinked in surprise and turned back to the Canadian. "You want to help me?" he asked. "Why? Alfred's your brother, I would think you would want him to be with a friend of yours."

Matthew glanced at the retreating couple and sighed. "Al is too friendly sometimes. He comes across as flirting even if he isn't. I don't want Arthur to get caught up in anything if it won't happen." He smiled at Francis mischievously. "Besides, I'm trying to return your favor. That's friends do right?" The Frenchman could only nod, mouth agape, his eyes filled with admiration for the soft-spoken Canadian. "Now," he was saying. "I might have an idea if you're willing to go through with it…"

* * *

 _ **I. Am. So. Sorry.**_

 ** _Hello everyone! I'm...not dead? I apologize for the 4 month hiatus, it's been a combination of school, stress, a busy schedule, slight bouts of depression, and plenty of wtf am I doing with my life moments. In the end, I have conquered for the time being and have returned to hopefully bless you with a long awaited chapter._**

 ** _What is this? PruCan is advancing? More tension? More drama? More omg just kiss already moments? Ah the meddling! I had fun with Matthew in this chapter- he's so adorable!_**

 ** _Hopefully I will be back before too long! Catch you later? Review please!_**

 ** _altera vita mea_**


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